Here, on the streets of stability, we value predictability over poetry, certainty over spontaneity, sameness over spectacle. We pride ourselves on a consistency of daily life, a steady, inflexible pulse that never flutters, never falters.
For this noble reason, there are no holidays, weekdays or weekends in Mundania. Each day is a mirror image of the last, not marred by the unpredictable chaos of so-called “celebrations.”
We find solace in the knowing. In fact, the most revered day of the year is known as Reflection Day, where we reflect—quite literally—on our year-long successes in avoiding change, in a large, impeccably clean mirror at Mundania Town Hall.
Mundanian children do not frolic; they engage in measured play, wherein each dull toy is put back exactly where it was found. Our adults do not engage in passionate love affairs; they participate in lifelong partnerships sanctioned by practicality.
Even our pets, the ever-faithful Mundanian canines, wag their tails in a precise metronome rhythm that would bring tears of joy to a metronome.
You see, here in Mundania, we don’t look up at the skies and wonder. We don’t gaze into the ocean’s horizon and dream. We stare forward, eyes on the predictable road ahead, comforted by the unmistakable, unchangeable grayness that fills our world.
But don’t mistake this for a lack of happiness. We are happy—happy to be freed from the confusing prism of human emotion, the unpredictable weather of the heart. In Mundania, we’ve found clarity in the cloudless sky over Monotony Bay, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.
Welcome to Mundania. We are delightfully sorry you’re here.
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