I’m at my wedding again, my husband and family are there. I feel a great happiness. They’re standing there before me, like a photograph, smiling, waving at me. Are they waving goodbye? They’re getting smaller and smaller…

Soft fur against my skin wakes me. Moriah is nudging my cheek. I reach out to pet her.

“Oh, Moriah,” I say, “I’m very happy to see you.” I sit up, and pick her up. “I just want to go home.”

“But Marla,” a bodiless voice, strangely familiar, speaks from the void of the plaza entrance. “Don’t you know? You are home.”