But where are we? I wondered, and how? The last thing I could remember was slipping on the ice when I went out the back door to put seed down for the wild birds - and then falling. But - where was here - and who was this beautiful girl? Sunlight streamed through the window and I could hear the birds singing; looking out there was no sign of frost, let alone ice; how could it be summer already? "You are puzzled," she remarked. "I do not recognise this room," I replied, "and though there is something distantly familiar about you I regret I must admit to knowing neither you nor your name." She smiled, and reached for a round hairbrush from the dressing-table and proceeded to coax some unruly straying curls back into place. In itself little, and yet the brush - of inexpensive white plastic - did seem familiar, fitting into the palm of her hand and held there by a strap across her fingers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror - not my usual thick jumper and tatty old jeans, but a doublet and hose of silk and velvet. Ah, I thought, it's all a dream. "No," she said, as if I had spoken out loud, "you have been wearing that suit in your dreams for many a year, have you not? And look again in the mirror - are you not still as in those dreams, young, with your full head of hair and your heart full of ambition?" That I could not deny; old men dream dreams, and seeing an image of my younger self brought it home to me just how many years had passed; but it was not just the mirror picture - my fingers were now straight again, my wrists no longer painful, my face unmarked by falls, nor was I racked with the aches and pains that had troubled me for so long. She placed the hairbrush back on the table and smiled again. "You know yourself; but you do not yet recognise me." "The only thing here that I think I recognise is your hairbrush; I had such a small plastic thing many years ago - but it was for grooming Dolly, my cat, not for human use." "And where is your cat Dolly now?" "Long dead," I sighed, " a lovely cat, but they don't live for long." "And when they are gone, they are gone for ever?" "Unless there is a heaven, and cats are allowed in!" I laughed. She turned away and looked out of the window. I waited for her to speak, all the while wondering who she reminded me of. "And if there is indeed a heaven," she continued, turning back to face me, "would they let you in? Who would vouch for you?" What was it about her - the blond hair piled high, the white dress, the green eyes - very green eyes … What happens to cats when they reach Heaven? And am I now in this heaven? "You were nothing in your last life" she said. "All those years achieving nothing. Unable to alter the world in any way. Why should you enter heaven? Who will vouch for you?" I shrugged my shoulders; I couldn't think of anyone; and yet - no. "But i will vouch for you because you loved me. And I loved you, and still do. And so. my only love, you are here. Now, perhaps, you know who I was, and who I am. Each person's heaven is the one they create. Amor vincit omnia. This is our heaven, my love."