You see in all this the hand of your golden double who can live in both worlds at the same time without having to write cheques, mend fuses or sidestep beggars on the way to the shops. But each day is the same: nothing arrives, no one calls your name.
And each night is the same: you lie down to sleep knowing your double has been there ahead of you, meddling with your dreams.
You see? - blue angels in a tree. A unicorn set free by the river.