Full of Fluff and Vying for Attention

Exhausted and unable to resist the bed beckoning, I collapse. The soothe comes instantly and overwhelms. I close my eyes: the darkness proceeds to massage my tired nerves. The weight atop my neck is not my neck’s concern anymore, I halt the fight against gravity, and oh what a wearisome fight it was. I stretch my legs, and oh, my calves cry out in euphoric ecstasy. I feel my back relax and I arch it, giving me a sense of satisfaction and relief like no other. The pleasure reverberates along the body and resonates within it, culminating in a hearty groan.

But what is this awkward frame of plastic that prods my nose-bridge and hurts the area behind my ear?

I part my lips in exasperation, while making a sound by sucking in breath while my tongue presses against clenched teeth. (Does anyone know how to properly describe this sound?) I raise my reluctant right arm to remove this terrible eye-aid I rely so heavily upon known as glasses. Then I fling them towards the general direction of my bedside table, grabbed my bolster which I proceed to curl around, and at last, let sleep claim me.


The dream was not surreal, nor was it in my ability to recall what it was, when I awoke the next morning. What I did know was that my head rested upon a padding that was too soft for my liking. It sunk lower than was comfortable, unlike the paradoxical soft rigidness my pillow offered. The question wandered lazily into my mind as I squinted into the daylight: Why am I lying on my bolster?

Then I proceed to notice, I am hugging my pillow. So my only logical explanation was this: The pair rose to duel while I slept. The winner is rewarded the comfort of my warm embrace, while the loser bore the burden of my sleeping head for the next eight hours.

Full of Fluff and Vying for Attention

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