A Story of Shapes

Once, a traveler became lost in a land in which he had never before gone astray. The reason was the mist, thick, cold, and obscuring, unusual in that time of drought. He wandered until the mist began to clear and saw himself to be in a place he had not before visited, away from the road and ringed with rocks, and in the center, a figure, dim at first but gradually visible.
The man was waving around a sack, and not without effect, for the mist went into the sack and caused it to bulge. Little by little, all of it was drawn in so that the day was as clear as could be.
"What is that sack, good sir?" the traveler asked. "And what is your name?"
The sack-swinger stopped and saw the traveler for the first time. "Oh, it's a shame you saw that, it is. Now you must press the mist in this bag." So saying, he threw the sack on the ground and menaced the traveler until the job was done.
"Good. Now you must roll out the mist and make the edges even." The traveler did that as well. The mist made a large, gray sheet, and though its borders lacked definition, the traveler was able to tell where they should be.
"Good. Now carve apart the mist into sections." Seeing the traveler unsure whether to speak, the man went on to say, "The size is your choice, and up to you also is the shape, and whether to make them uniform."
The traveler made them blocks at first, but as he went he made circles and spirals and petals, and other shapes as well, some of them small and others nearly the whole length of it. More than that, his confidence increased so that he packed some together and pulled others apart as it felt right to do. When he completed his work, the man looked it over.
"At last, something I can use. I'll end the drought with this, and as for you." The man made the mist into the clouds and the traveler into the god of them, and from then on the world had weather again.
Finis