"So, how long have you been here?" Ezekiel asked Greymalkin, and the cat cocked it's head, as though making calculations, then shook it in the universal representation of saying 'No," and the words that Ezekiel received in his mind were: "could be years, months, weeks or days even – you asked about the strange passage of Time here, that makes it impossible to work it out; basically there is a segment of about 10 days that repeat, but not always in the same order, and days don't necessarily have twenty-four hours, some are stretched and others are truncated – you saw the clock stopping and winding backwards, that happens at random; you might go to bed on Saturday night and get up on the previous Thursday morning, you just never know," so, Ezekiel asked: "what makes one day different from another?" and Greymalkin purred, and spoke again to Ezekiel, by thought transference: "on one day, the Church Steeple is being repointed and the bells limned; on another Soft Mick is discovered to be alive, in his coffin, in it's grave; and yet another is the day Mick climbs his ladder without the Lamplighter to hold it steady and falls to his death; and then there is Mick's funeral, and his wedding, and the re-enactment of the original Soft Mick returning from the war with the village banner, and Christmas Day of course, and Easter, with the excursion to High Hill and everyone rolls down it after the picnic, and Market Day, and the day of the Great Flood! but you don't know what day it is at the start, because they all start more or less the same, and anyway, the villagers just go about their daily lives regardless of, or oblivious to, the randomness, and after a time, you stop trying to keep a tally, because it's pointless, it doesn't mean anything – except for the rare day in which everyone is aladdinized, but don't look out for it, because every day starts exactly the same and you won't know what day it is until the paper comes; and anyway, I have observed that the humans have no idea what's going on, it's like they are wakened afresh every morning and it doesn't make much difference to them one way or the other, and you will soon fall into that pattern," but Ezekiel closed his eyes to concentrate, then said: "but if I plan to escape, what then?" and Greymalkin actually laughed, then said: "fuhgeddaboudit – no-one ever escapes, alive!"