Pillow, friend, constant companion! It brings joy into life. Even in its sad, misshapen state, it comforts the soul. The rugged form, covered by a faded pillowcase, equals an impeccable resting place for a head. Its flush fabric caresses the face while the feathery softness cradles the skull. The musky yet clean smell, the one fallen asleep to every night, perfects the scene. The cover rustles softly as movement occurs in sleep. In the morning upon awakening, the flowing stripes are the first thing seen. The happiness this small act gives cannot be conveyed in words alone.
This pillow is the only one for me. Every trip taken, it, and no other, comes along. It makes the perfect psychiatrist, taking on my anger and tears without a word or complaint. It comforts when I feel sad, listens when I need to talk. Better than any stuffed animal, it actually serves a purpose. The whole meaning and point of this pillow’s existence is to comfort me in my sleep. As I look at it, resting on my bed, I realize how hard it would truly be to live without my best friend.
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