"Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends." -Shel Silverstein
No, there's not really an edge to our world, but if you've ever been to the ocean shores, you might know that feeling I'm talking about. The smell of the salt water, the wind gusting in from the sea, the sandy beaches and rocky outcrops slowly losing ground to the relentless waves; it's one of the most…
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