It has been a rough and challenging ride. The journey is far from over. With a thousand memories of a cat clashing daily with a million bits of reality, there are still hurdles, and those only lead to check-points, which in turn open dark chasms into a fragmented universe of uncertainty.

But tomorrow I will, at long last, be boarding a dream machine they call a plane, aiming skywards and bound for the very opposite to this New York prison, a world of cruel beauty and deep suffering where I still manage to be whole.

The following day, our silly little planet having revolved furiously around its own belly button and my almost-supersonic ride traveled relentlessly eastward and south, I will land in, step foot on and embrace the sheer magnificence of the Western Cape, South Africa.

The sleepers (Photo Marie Viljoen, welcomed paparazzi)

Then I will pause. I will take deep breaths. I will collapse in Marie’s arms and let her nestle herself in mine. We will ponder a life without our king, a kingdom deprived of its soul. We’ll figure it out. Complex flowers, endearing birds, deep scents and night owls will conspire to ease the process.

In the end, I will be back. We will prevail. This blog will come back to life. There might just be a lag, the jet kind. Hang in there. I am working on a post, kitty-based, possibly moving images, certainly cute, most definitely complicated.

You had to be there. And if you were, thank you.