This is how H G Wells describes 'the end' in his ‘The Time
Machine’:
“The darkness grew apace; a cold wind began to blow in
freshening gusts from the east, and the showering white flakes in the air
increased in number. From the edge of the sea came a ripple and whisper. Beyond
these lifeless sounds the world was silent. Silent? It would be hard to convey
the stillness of it. All the sounds of man, the bleating of sheep, the cries of
birds, the hum of insects, the stir that makes the background of our lives—all
that was over. As the darkness thickened, the eddying flakes grew more
abundant, dancing before my eyes; and the cold of the air more intense. At
last, one by one, swiftly, one after the other, the white peaks of the distant
hills vanished into blackness. The breeze rose to a moaning wind. I saw the
black central shadow of the eclipse sweeping towards me. In another moment the
pale stars alone were visible. All else was rayless obscurity. The sky was
absolutely black.”
And just before that...
