April 2, 2005:

You push the couch out of the way. It's light: Danish Modern with a thin, uncomfortable foam insert for padding. You're planning to sleep on the floor tonight. It's your childhood apartment, but the couch is on the wrong side of the room, under the windows. Your beloved cat is with you. You gave her to your mother because you feared you couldn't take proper care of her. She curls up with you on the floor, purring. She died years ago. She's thrilled to see you, purring and nuzzling. You stroke her soft fur and are very happy, to the point of tears.