Himmelsguckerda’s firmament was once a huge dome or a tent, called the sky tent, on which the stars hung and shone into the depths where the earth received its light. Nobody was prompted to paint a universe whose size was unimaginable. Nobody went to sleep at night because the loss of our planet tormented him, this tiny nothing among myriads of similar trabants. Nobody had the suspicion that the Creator, who, depending on the, could not exist on his creatio and its inhabitants, depending on, a gracious or angry eye. Everything was or rather: hung in the solder. The firmament was set and everyone was satisfied.
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