My enormous draughty house. The feeling of both freedom and anxiety. I come inside and start checking my cats. I find K. His fur is ruffled and eyes still sleepy, as if after a long nap. I go into another room. There is a cat there. For a moment, it looks like K. But I've just seen him. The cat starts changing subtly (or do I just get a better look?), and I realise that that's L. She turns her head towards me, her blind eyes are shining like green marbles. But it's impossible. She died a while ago. Unless I've been dreaming—no. Everything's so real. It's my life, I feel, and touch, and smell, and—
I wake up. I feel this creeping terror you usually have after a nightmare.