It was as though a bunch of years had fallen back. Though if the years hadn’t existed, today would not have been like today. 
The words thrown around were from forgotten memories. Like the dreams of the dawn. Vague, familiar, haunting.
The whiteness of the ambience. The atmosphere. The floors, the ceiling, the shades, the windows. So different, yet so like the once-well-known. The jolt of the difficult memory. 
It was not a re-living, it was a re-discovery. It was the jump of the heart when one plunges down in the Giant Wheel.
It was so ordinary, yet so special. Meaningful in the enormity of its commonness.
It was almost – but not quite – as though… I was home.