Imagine a paperweight world, immeasurably larger, large enough to have its own interior fixed sun, but a world still finite, whirling freely in space, populated by a full complement of creatures of all kinds. They would be literally inside outside. But they would not know it. Not at first. They would try desperately to find an answer to who they were, what was their universe, what was the purpose of their lives--much as people do on Earth. And when disaster struck--when the hand shook the snowball--they would try desperately hard to survive. And some would find the answer.