Somewhere there is a house, a house with only one small room. This is the house of an old man and a woman. They had lived in this house since the beginning of the world. We say the beginning of the world, nevertheless we know, they are older. Older than anything we can realize. We say that, because not even our imagination can travel deeper in the past.
There is no window on the house and no door at all. There is no need. They never leave the small room and they don't want to look outside. Because there is nothing outside. No sunshine to go out for, no trees to pick some fruits from, no grass to walk on, no stars, no moon, nothing...
So they spend their days in their house. The woman is cooking at the old stove, the man is sitting by the table waiting for the supper. They don't talk. Every evening is the same day by day - the woman is cooking, the man is sitting and staring at his old hands.
There is always dusk in the small room. They only have one round lamp hanging from the ceiling above the table. It gives a weak yellow light that makes some fuzzy shadows on the blue walls.
Some days some fire-flies come - no one knows where they are from ? they simply appear around the lamp and make circles as they are dancing. Today there are exactly nine of them. Some of them are bigger, some of them are smaller.
Sometimes it happens that on the flies mountains begin to rise, sometimes the mountains give birth to rivers, the rivers come together and make seas, the seas release some clouds. Very rarely - but today it is one of these special days ? beside the rivers little people are building their small houses, making their small beds and dreaming their small dreams about their small future, the endlessness of the universe, about their own importance.
The woman is silently watching the fireflies until one of them flies to close to the light and burns. When she finishes the dinner and the man has his supper the night comes. They are preparing their black, white dotted blankets and go to bed. The old man is grunting something while the woman turns out the light.
When the light is out the fireflies disappear. They fade out with their mountains, their rivers, the people and the dreams.
This is the end of the world. But of course as we said at the beginning, it is not really the end, it's only the furthermost point in the future in our short dreams.