Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there were towns with edges, towns in places like Wasilla, or Bessemer. People in those towns were afraid to go to big places, like Anchorage or Stevens Point, though sometimes they would go in and out quickly to buy groceries or clothes. They would never go as far as Milwaukee, or even Sitka. They knew that bad things happen to people in big places, and there were too many strangers.

But one time, one person in one of the towns met a friend, someone visiting her town from a big place. The new friend didn’t understand much about the smaller place, except that it was a little wild and small. That is all this new friend understood.

The new friend said, please come visit me in my big place. It did not happen, but they stayed friends. Every year in the early autumn, the new friend in the big place kept urging the other one, “Please come to visit. There is so much I’d like to show you.”

Finally, one year the friend from the small place timidly ventured, I will come, if you promise to meet me at the edge of town.

Her friend had no idea that towns had edges! No idea that edges could ever be important! She had to admit to the friend from far away, Towns and cities here, have no edges. They run into each other.

But, exclaimed the other, Without edges, how do know where you are?

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