" I leant against my Tree and looked at the wreckage of my Tea Shack. ‘The world’s gone mad,’ I said. ‘Again.’ ‘And it will right itself,’ said my Tree. ‘Again. Don’t grieve too much. It was only a photograph. You will see her before you die.’ Something in the wreckage gave way, and the roof thumped down. ‘I live here quietly, minding my own business. I don’t bother anybody. Why are men forever marching up the path to destroy my Tea Shack? Why do events have this life of their own?’ ‘That,’ answered my Tree, ‘is a very good question. "

― David Mitchell , Ghostwritten