I dreamt I saw the end of the world, only I realised it wasn’t a dream. There wasn’t any loud noise, no big bang just a blue flash in the sky that lasted only a brief second. It was odd because I never thought I’d see the end of the world, I guess nobody in their right mind would – when you consider how long mankind has been around, how many people, generations have come and gone. Yet there I stood looking out of my bedroom window when the world ended, in my lifetime, on my watch. And I did nothing. They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, imagine then what a world must see as it dies, does it consider the volcanic orgy that has forever taken place within and sometimes without itself? Does it consider the seas and oceans, the landmasses and all their glorious variety or does it consider one single species upon its surface arrogant enough to believe their all importance. One thinks not. I can’t honestly say what I thought as I stood there, its one of those moments where introspection isn’t high on one’s agenda - being a more civilised inclination created when survival no longer became an issue. Strange then it should so rapidly disappear as survival became a serious issue once more. Its amazing what a few million years of evolution doesn’t change in a person, despite it being the end of the world there was still this atavistic urge deep down in me saying “Get the fuck out of there” – so I did. But alas I move too fast – let me return and begin, as a famous wordsmith once suggested, at the beginning.