The universe, they used to say br exploded once from a tiny point br and all the bits— br planets, stars and galaxies br shot out like bullets from the centre, br expanded outward into space br and everything moved away br from everything else. br They prophesied that gravity at last br would slow things down, br all outward movement stop, br go in reverse br and then contract br again, back to a point— br a singularity so small br it must explode br so “Bang”—a new universe br is born again br and so the cycle endlessly br repeats—expand, contract br like breath, the process br somehow seems comforting: br it seems to say br that life goes on br even though you are not there br to enjoy it. br br Cosmologists are fickle creatures br for now they say br it doesn’t happen quite br like that, instead the universe br just keeps on expanding br forever and ever, br each star, each world br getting further and further away br from its nearest companion in space, br diminishing and dwindling, br moving away out into space, br faster and faster br for ever and ever br dwindling, diminishing, br becoming colder br and colder, and br lonelier and lonelier. br This is how, they say, br the universe will end br or rather will not end. br br I think I prefer br their latest speculation br where multiple universes br are born from black holes br billions of them bubbling and frothing br like frogspawn. br I favour life br over death.