 In some puzzle cases it seems that two objects occupy the same place at the same time, but not forever: one or both of them exist either before or after the period of coincidence. For example, suppose you take a lump of clay, and by moulding and shaping it create a statue, which you place proudly on a plinth. What’s on the plinth? Well, the statue is. Is the original lump of clay also on the plinth? It seems so: you didn’t destroy or even damage the lump of clay just by changing its shape. So are there are two statue-shaped things on the plinth, a statue and a lump of clay? On the one hand it seems daft to count these as two different objects. But on the other hand they do seem different: the lump of clay is older than the statue, for example, and perhaps it makes sense to describe the statue as ‘well-made’ or as ‘yet another derivative bit of art-as-therapy’, while the lump of clay is neither well-made nor derivative: it was just dug out of the garden. These differences suggest that the lump of clay and the statue are two different things, occupying the same place at the same time.