Rain on the windows, the specific steady kind that means in for the evening. Two lamps on. The blanket that had been through college. A cat curled against her hip, purring inconsistently. She was reading a book she had read before, which was the whole point, and there was a half-eaten bar of chocolate on the arm of the couch. The radiator ticked. The tea was still hot. Every once in a while she looked up from the book to enjoy the fact that she was exactly here and nowhere else.