Day 7 in Toronto. The first six days had been a drift — a hippo mask at arrivals, ice at Niagara, kitchens that weren't mine. Today was quieter. Woke at six-ten, level for the first time all week. Walked past the CN Tower to a cafe I hadn't tried yet, drip coffee and a plain bun in a window seat. Down the street: registered at a coworking. First desk of this Toronto chapter. Day 7 is when a place starts to become yours.