So, I turned into a cat and jumped. In fact, I jumped twice; first, to extricate myself from that living death after several years, and to land in the arms of the wonderful Chl. The second jump was something like the extension of that first jump in material space and time, and it happened when I left the house where I was living for good and spent those six months in my friends’ house, looking for an apartment in the painful way I’ve already described. I spent those months in the air, dizzy from leaping so high, and when I landed … Chl was hardly there to catch me, because along came that trip of hers, and in a way I’m still in mid-air, with vertigo, with the sensation of an endless fall in slow motion, and the feeling of inevitable disaster.