Remember the last time you felt at home anywhere. Close your eyes if it helps. Lie down somewhere, relax, stop listening for the signs of the apocalypse. Let the blurry contours make their way through the haze of memory until they’re sharp, colourful. And remember with more than your sight, too. The scents and the ambient sounds and the sensation of a hand moving up and down your side, slowly, as if having all the time there is in the world to have. And remember the taste of the cooking, of the air, of everything.
You will be there again.