The first thing Theo noticed about the town of Hindsbrook was that everyone was walking backwards.
Not stumbling. Not by accident. Purposefully, confidently, at a perfectly normal speed — just going the wrong way.
"Excuse me," Theo said to a woman passing in reverse. "Why is everyone—"
"Forward walking was banned in 1987," she said cheerfully, not stopping. "Long story."
It was, it emerged, a very long story involving a mayor, a parade, a startled horse, and a fountain. Theo heard several versions.
What struck him was how well it seemed to work. People walked backwards so often that they had become extremely good at it. Nobody bumped into anything. They knew exactly where they were going even when facing the opposite direction.
"Doesn't it bother you?" Theo asked his new neighbour. "Not being able to see where you're going?"
"You can see where you've been," she said. "That's more useful."
Theo thought about this for three days.
On the fourth day, he tried walking backwards to school.
He bumped into a lamp post.
But he did notice three things he'd never seen before on that route.
Progress, he decided, came in all directions.