A  seule  leaf, folded, can carry the image of a  forêt  at  nuit . We've fallen into one of these leaves. As we decelerate past the broken ranks of vegetables and pinecones, past the palms and their hidden reptiles, the monkeys clutching dolls, the  arbres  that were once  téléphone  poles and now are decorated with  dent  marks and plastic leaves, we only see that everything is starting to tilt. The  sol  isn't where we expected it to be. Night is longer by a few hours here, inches are  pieds , and everything grows too fast, adapts too well, so that even the clever intruder stands little chance. By the time we hit  sol , we will be part of the  forêt , covered with leaves like the people in Ovid, our  dent  made of bad wood. Any pictures taken from now on will be contaminated with  poussière ,  sombre , and  abeille  mites, rendering them useless as visible artifacts.     Hive-Maker avait écrit qu'il imaginait cet endroit couvert d'une végétation dense où les âmes des morts vivaient sous la forme de petites lumières flottantes.