The same town, the same factory, the same people — the same streets, the same faces, the same familiar routines, the same ordinary days passing by in much the same way as they had passed before, and before that, and before that again, continuing onward in the same general manner, following the same patterns and taking the same shape, with the same things remaining in the same places and everything continuing much as it always had, or at least much as it had continued until then. The streets were still the same streets, extending in the same directions and remaining where streets had always been, while the faces were still the same faces, recognizable in the same familiar ways, and the people were still the same people, being the same people who had been there before. The factory was still the same factory, standing where the factory had stood, and the town was still the same town, remaining the town that it had been, with nothing truly different except for what had been written over it.

The same streets were still beneath the same surroundings, leading from one familiar place to another familiar place in the same familiar manner. The same faces were still attached to the same people, and the same people were still present in the same town, just as they had been present before. The same factory was still standing in the same place, and the same town was still gathered around it, remaining arranged in the same general way and continuing to be recognizable as the same town. Nothing about the streets made them anything other than the streets they had already been, and nothing about the factory made it anything other than the factory it had already been. The people were still the people, the faces were still the faces, and the ordinary routines were still the ordinary routines that had already been repeated before.

There was simply a different name, a different name placed over the name that had already been there, a different name written across what was already familiar, covering what had existed before without changing what lay underneath it. The old name was no longer the name that could be seen, because another name had been put in its place, but the putting of the new name in that place had not, by itself, moved anything else. It had not moved the streets, or the factory, or the people, or the faces, or the routines, or the ordinary days that continued to arrive and pass in the ordinary way. It had only changed the name that appeared where the previous name had appeared, replacing one name with another name while leaving everything surrounding the name as it had been.

The different name was different because it was not the old name, and the old name was no longer visible because the different name had taken its place. That was all that had happened to the name itself. The letters that could now be seen were not the letters that had been seen before, and the name that could now be spoken was not the name that had previously been spoken. But the difference between the names remained a difference between names. It did not become a difference between streets, or a difference between buildings, or a difference between people, simply because the thing that identified them by name had been changed.

And beneath that different name, everything else remained exactly as it had been — the same streets, the same faces, the same routines, the same days, the same people, the same factory, the same town, all continuing in much the same way as before. Nothing had been altered merely because something had been renamed. The streets did not become different streets simply because the name above them was different. The faces did not become different faces simply because they belonged to a place whose name was no longer the name it had previously carried. The people remained the people, the factory remained the factory, and the town remained the town, regardless of what particular collection of letters had been placed over the older collection of letters.

The name could be different without the things beneath the name becoming different. The word could be changed without the streets being changed. The word could be replaced without the factory being replaced. The word could be covered without the people being covered. The word could be altered without the faces being altered. The name could cease to be the old name while everything that had existed alongside that old name continued to exist in the same familiar manner.

The same things were still there, in the same general places, continuing to occupy the same spaces and existing alongside one another in the same familiar arrangement. The factory continued to be the factory, and the streets continued to be the streets, and the people continued to be the people who lived and worked and walked along those streets. The faces continued to be seen in the same familiar surroundings, and the routines continued to repeat themselves in the same repetitive fashion, as routines tend to do when they remain routines. The days continued to follow one another, one day following another day, and then another day following that day, with each day remaining an ordinary day in much the same way that the ordinary days before it had been ordinary.

The same ordinary things continued to be ordinary things. The same familiar places remained familiar places. The same familiar faces remained familiar faces, and the same familiar people remained the people whose faces were familiar. The same streets remained the streets along which the same people continued to move, and the same factory remained the factory that stood in the same town. Nothing in the ordinary continuation of those things required the name to remain the same. The name could change while the things named remained where they were, doing what they had already been doing and continuing in the same general fashion.

Nothing had really changed, except that something had changed its name.

That was the difference, and it was also the extent of the difference. A name had been replaced by another name, and because the name was different, the name was no longer the same name. But everything that was not the name remained what it had been. The streets did not change their streets-ness. The factory did not cease to be the factory. The people did not become other people. The faces did not become unfamiliar simply because the name written above the familiar place was now unfamiliar. The routines remained routines, the days remained days, and the town remained the same town beneath the different name that had been placed upon it.

The difference was therefore contained within the difference between one name and another. The old name had been there, and then the new name was there. The old name had been replaced, and the new name had taken its place. The name was no longer the same, but the things around the name remained the same. The streets still extended as they had extended, the factory still stood as it had stood, the people still remained as they had remained, and the faces still appeared as they had appeared. The routines still repeated themselves, and the days still continued to pass, just as they had passed when the previous name had been the name that could be seen.

It was, in that sense, a change that changed the thing that was being called something without changing the thing that was being called. The word had changed, but the place had not. The name had changed, but the streets had not. What was written had changed, but what had already been there remained there. The surface of the name was different, while everything underneath the name continued to be exactly as it had continued before. One name had gone, another name had taken its place, and the town had continued being the town.

The same was true of everything else. The factory did not become another factory merely because the name associated with it was different. The streets did not become other streets merely because they were now contained beneath a different name. The people did not become other people, and the faces did not become other faces. The routines did not become other routines, and the days did not become other days. What had been familiar remained familiar, even when the name used to identify that familiarity was no longer the name that had previously been used.

So the same town remained the same town, even though it was now being called by a different name. The same factory remained the same factory, even though the name associated with the town and the factory was no longer the name that had previously been used. The same people remained the same people, even though the words used to describe where they were remained different from the words that had been used before. The same streets remained beneath the same feet, the same faces remained among the same familiar surroundings, and the same routines remained part of the same ordinary existence.

The new name covered the old name, but it did not cover the streets.

It did not cover the factory.

It did not cover the people.

It did not cover the faces.

It did not cover the routines.

It did not cover the days.

It covered only the name.

And because it covered only the name, everything else remained underneath it, unchanged in all the ways that mattered for it to remain what it had already been. The town was still there. The factory was still there. The streets were still there. The people were still there. The faces were still there. The routines were still there. The days still came and went. Everything continued, and because everything continued, everything remained much as it had been.

The name was different.

The town was not.

The name was different.

The factory was not.

The name was different.

The people were not.

The name was different.

The streets were not.

The name was different.

The faces were not.

The name was different.

The routines were not.

The name was different.

The days were not.

The same distinction remained the same distinction: the name had changed, while everything that was not the name had remained. The different name could be seen where the old name had once been seen, and the old name could no longer be seen where the different name now appeared. But the replacement of one name by another did not replace the town, did not replace the factory, did not replace the streets, did not replace the people, did not replace the faces, did not replace the routines, and did not replace the days.

The town was still located where the town had been. The factory was still located where the factory had been. The streets were still extending through the town in the same general directions. The people were still the same people, and the faces were still the same faces. The routines still occurred as routines had occurred before, and the days still arrived as days had arrived before. Everything that had continued continued still, and everything that had remained remained still.

And so, despite the fact that the name had changed, the same things remained the same things, in the same places, among the same people, during the same sorts of days, following the same sorts of routines, beneath the same ordinary continuation of everything that had already been continuing. The different name was there, clearly different from the name that had been there before, and yet the presence of that different name did not make the familiar unfamiliar, nor did it make the unchanged changed.

The name could be new without the town becoming new. The name could be different without the factory becoming different. The name could be unfamiliar without the streets becoming unfamiliar. The name could be replaced without the people being replaced. The name could be changed without the faces being changed. The name could be altered without the routines being altered. The name could be different while the days remained the same days, continuing one after another in the same ordinary sequence.

The new name was therefore simply the new name, and the things beneath it were still the things beneath it. The streets remained streets. The factory remained the factory. The people remained the people. The faces remained the faces. The routines remained routines. The days remained days. The town remained the town. Nothing about the continuation of those things required the name above them to remain unchanged.

It was simply a different name.

A name that had replaced another name.

A name that occupied the place where another name had once been.

A name that was different from the name that had been there before.

But still only a name.

And underneath it, the same streets remained.

The same factory remained.

The same people remained.

The same faces remained.

The same routines remained.

The same days remained.

The same town remained.

The name was different, and the name was different only because it was not the name that had been there before. Everything else remained what it had been, continuing in the same general manner and following the same familiar patterns. The streets were still the streets, the factory was still the factory, the people were still the people, the faces were still the faces, the routines were still the routines, and the days were still the days.

It was simply a different name.

And underneath it, it was still the same town.

The same town, still the same town, still occupying the same place, still surrounded by the same streets, still containing the same factory, still inhabited by the same people, still carrying the same familiar faces, still repeating the same familiar routines, still moving through the same ordinary days. The town had not moved because the name had moved. The town had not changed because the letters had changed. The streets had not shifted because the word above them had been replaced. The factory had not become another factory because the name of the town had become another name.

The same remained the same.

The streets remained the streets.

The factory remained the factory.

The people remained the people.

The faces remained the faces.

The routines remained the routines.

The days remained the days.

And the town remained the town.

Only the name had changed.

The name was different, but the difference remained only in the name. The new name stood where the old name had stood. The new name could be read where the old name had once been read. The new name could be spoken where the old name had once been spoken. The new name could be repeated in the place of the old name, and repeated again, and again, and again, without the repetition of the new name making any of the other things new.

The streets could continue to be the same streets while being spoken of under the different name. The factory could continue to be the same factory while standing beneath the different name. The people could continue to be the same people while belonging to the same town beneath the different name. The faces could continue to be the same faces while remaining among the same people. The routines could continue to be the same routines while occurring under the different name. The days could continue to be the same ordinary days while passing beneath the different name.

Nothing else needed to change for the name to change.

Nothing else needed to move for the name to move.

Nothing else needed to be replaced for the name to be replaced.

Nothing else needed to become different for the name to become different.

The name could simply be different.

And everything else could simply remain.

The same streets.

The same factory.

The same people.

The same faces.

The same routines.

The same days.

The same town.

The same everything that was not the name.

The old name had been the old name, and the new name was the new name. The old name had belonged to what had been called by the old name, and the new name now belonged to what was being called by the new name. But the thing being called remained the same thing. The town remained the town. The factory remained the factory. The streets remained the streets. The people remained the people. The faces remained the faces. The routines remained the routines. The days remained the days.

The difference was in what was said.

The difference was in what was written.

The difference was in what was called.

The difference was in the name.

The difference was not in the town.

The difference was not in the factory.

The difference was not in the streets.

The difference was not in the people.

The difference was not in the faces.

The difference was not in the routines.

The difference was not in the days.

Those things remained.

They remained where they had been.

They remained what they had been.

They remained among one another as they had been among one another.

They continued as they had continued.

They repeated as they had repeated.

They occupied the same places and followed the same patterns.

The only difference was that the name attached to all of that was no longer the same name.

The name had changed.

Everything else had remained.

And because everything else had remained, the same streets were still the same streets, the same factory was still the same factory, the same people were still the same people, the same faces were still the same faces, the same routines were still the same routines, the same days were still the same days, and the same town was still the same town.

The new name did not make the old things disappear.

The new name did not make the old streets disappear.

The new name did not make the old factory disappear.

The new name did not make the old people disappear.

The new name did not make the old faces disappear.

The new name did not make the old routines disappear.

The new name did not make the old days disappear.

The new name simply stood in the place where the old name had stood.

It was there instead.

That was the difference.

Instead of the old name, there was the new name.

Instead of the old collection of letters, there was the new collection of letters.

Instead of the old word, there was the new word.

But beneath the word, the same things remained.

The same town remained.

The same factory remained.

The same streets remained.

The same people remained.

The same faces remained.

The same routines remained.

The same days remained.

And so the name could be changed again and again without the town becoming another town, without the factory becoming another factory, without the streets becoming other streets, without the people becoming other people, without the faces becoming other faces, without the routines becoming other routines, and without the days becoming other days. A different name could continue to be a different name while everything beneath that name continued to be exactly what it had already been.

The name was simply the name.

The streets were simply the streets.

The factory was simply the factory.

The people were simply the people.

The faces were simply the faces.

The routines were simply the routines.

The days were simply the days.

The town was simply the town.

The name could change without changing the things that remained beneath it.

The name could be replaced without replacing what the name referred to.

The name could be different without making everything else different.

And therefore the same town remained beneath the different name, just as the same factory remained beneath it, just as the same streets remained beneath it, just as the same people remained beneath it, just as the same faces remained beneath it, just as the same routines remained beneath it, and just as the same ordinary days continued beneath it.

Nothing had really changed.

Except the name.

And the name had changed.

Only the name.

The name was different.

The town was still the same.

The factory was still the same.

The streets were still the same.

The people were still the same.

The faces were still the same.

The routines were still the same.

The days were still the same.

Everything that was not the name remained the same.

Everything that was the name was no longer the same.

That was all.

The old name had become the old name.

The new name had become the new name.

The old name had gone from where it had been.

The new name had appeared where the old name had been.

And the town remained.

The factory remained.

The streets remained.

The people remained.

The faces remained.

The routines remained.

The days remained.

The same things remained in the same places, continuing in the same general manner, repeating the same familiar patterns, occupying the same familiar spaces, and remaining the same things beneath a different name.

It was simply a different name.

And underneath it, it was still the same town.