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Hodgson, William Hope, 1877-1918

"The House on the Borderland"

At times, I glanced behind me, into the
growing dusk of the great, silent room, with its aeon-carpet of
sleeping dust....
So, I watched through the fleeting ages, lost in soul-wearing thoughts
and wonderings, and possessed with a new weariness.

_XVII_
THE SLOWING ROTATION
It might have been a million years later, that I perceived, beyond
possibility of doubt, that the fiery sheet that lit the world, was
indeed darkening.
Another vast space went by, and the whole enormous flame had sunk to a
deep, copper color. Gradually, it darkened, from copper to copper-red,
and from this, at times, to a deep, heavy, purplish tint, with, in it, a
strange loom of blood.
Although the light was decreasing, I could perceive no diminishment in
the apparent speed of the sun. It still spread itself in that dazzling
veil of speed.
The world, so much of it as I could see, had assumed a dreadful shade
of gloom, as though, in very deed, the last day of the worlds
approached.
The sun was dying; of that there could be little doubt; and still the
earth whirled onward, through space and all the aeons.


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