There was a period of time where I was floating, drifting around in a space that felt neither tangible nor particularly empty. It was an in-between; a break in reality where a small piece of me managed to slip through into this place that was reminiscent of something more dream-like than anything else I’ve ever experienced: It was a Saturday morning on the patio of your favorite coffee shop, the smell of freshly made pastries wafting just under your nose, filling you up until you were warm, until your breathing was even and steady.