1𝐷𝑎𝑦𝐴𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟𝐴𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 (mark40511)

The creation ends in South Georgia, at the very edge of the sweet earth. Only the sky, widest of the wide, goes on, flatness against flatness. The sky appears so close that, with a long-enough extension ladder, you think you could touch it, and sometimes you do, when clouds descend in the night to set a fine pelt of dew on the grasses, leaving behind white trails of fog and mist.