I think often of those poor victims of the early days of Mortdieu. They had known a world of some stability; we have adapted since. They were shocked by cities turning into forests, by their nightmares taking shape before their eyes. Prodigal crows perched atop trees that had once been buildings, pigs ran through the streets on their hind legs... and so on. (The priest did not encourage contemplation of the oddities. "Excitement," he said, "breeds even more monsters.")