Drabble 08: Pillow

It’s soft to touch.

Obviously.

It’s comfortable to lie on.

Obviously.

There is no princess and the pea, there is no hidden agenda, no secret. Just a simple white pillow with cotton stuffing.

She lays her head on it, hair splayed around like a halo. She draws the white sheets on top herself, sinks into their warm embrace.

She dreams.

She dreams of fluffy white sheep and fluffy white cats and fluffy white dogs and fluffy white pillows.

She is happy, she is relaxed. She dances among the clouds, sings, out of tune, to the music of the heavens.

A loud screeching makes her bolt up, straight. She has to get to class. She dashes off the bed, and in her haste the pillow falls straight to the floor. There’s a patch where she has drooled on it.

And there it will lay, until she comes back weary, tired, ready to love her pillow again.