Last night, as I was sleeping in my bed for the first time in almost a week, my cat Emma started crying.

She woke me up, and for a confused, bleary five minutes I was convinced that I was back in Toronto, curled up in a young child’s bed that was kindly lent to me by my host and dear friend.

The sounds of Emma’s crying mixed with the memory of my friend’s cat whining for attention, and for a fleeting moment I was thousands of kilometres away…

Emma jumped onto my bed, breaking the reverie and pulling me back into my own bedroom. For that brief five minutes, I stood in two worlds simultaneously.

If only real life were so easy.

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