[ WP ] On an inside-out planet , a primitive tribe looks upward and sees a utopian empire .

I live in the South, where the heat seems to gather. At the center of our land, where the great steppes converge on a vast, arid desert, its presence is almost unbearable. I live on its edge, the desert that is, where the heat is still fierce but the winds enough to keep the clumpy soil from turning to dust. Yes, I've lived here, in the steppes surrounded by the shrubs and the bushes, my whole life. But, I too had been to the coast. Since I was a boy, I'd dreamed of its scent, its sound, and its taste, the fast-moving currents and the peaceful, green coves. The sight had long taunted me and my tribe from its perch above the horizon. 
 
 At the age of eighteen, my tribe made the trek, through grasslands we rode, through jungles we trudged, until the Great Forest, where we were forced to make camp. Three days, we marched, through valleys and passes until it relented. Emerging from its domain, I found my senses greeted by a world long confined to my imagination. Seagulls flapped against strong winds, kicking up sand and scooping up fish. I looked across the aqueous basin, which had long been merely a ring, deep blue'round the Great Mist above us. I stood on its edge, the world's water below and above and to each of my sides. What a place to live, I thought to myself, reminded as to why it was the pride of our land. 
 
 The others around kneeled and they prayed, when the youngest let out the loudest of shrieks. 
 
 `` Mama!'' she cried `` What is that above?'' `` The Mist is no more and the ring seems to end.'' 
 
 A ripple of terror shot through our soft prayer. I focused my eyes and saw what was there. As the youngest had told, the water did end... and the Great Mist was no more. In its place, some things familiar yet altogether foreign. 
 
 Land had emerged and, with it, a new world too. Men and women feet northward, and heads to the south, no heed to our presence, their distant world buzzed. Where one would expect to find forests and jungles and grass, out stretched great needles from side to far side. From them, came light that lit up their frame. The web they created with these skinny, bright structures, it covered below, above us that is, a shining white circle that seemed aglow. 
 
 Overwhelmed, I turned and swallowed my tears, 
 
 Herded up my tribe and quelled their fears. 
 
 We'll head back to our homeland under Great Mist, 
 
 Forget what you've seen, it should n't exist. 
 
 As we made our way through the sand, I looked back once more. Hell, I thought, so it is real. I prayed for their souls as we set course for the desert's edge and its blistering heat. 
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