I lost a Pillow
Recently when changing my bed sheets I lost a pillow. Thats right, an entire pillow vanished from my peripheral view. It happened after everything had been changed into fresh linens. I was constructing the masterpiece that is my princess like bed. I call it this as I have 6 normal pillows and 3 throw pillows. Don't you judge me. Anyways; towards the end, I noticed I was one pillow short. Where could it be? I checked all around my room, moved boxes under my bed and checked the laundry hamper. Possibly I had mistakenly added it to the wash which I had just put on full of my dirty sheets. One hour and 30 minutes later the wash finished, and as I hung it out there was no pillow to be seen. It had simply vanished. Seriously, how does one loose an entire pillow? It’s not some tchotchke like ornament, it was an entire fecking pillow. The scenario had me questioning my sanity.
What if someone had broken into my flat and was testing me like some mild version of Scream but instead of stalking me to death, they were testing my OCD tendencies. The next stage they would remove a door to my wardrobe and see if I would completely loose my shit. What if it was some test to see how perceptive I really was, and any second now, a person will arrive at my door issuing a hearty ‘congratulations,’ ‘you are the most perceptive person we have ever seen, please come work for the government as a Spy’.
Maybe my housemates borrowed it? I hope for nothing sexual. If so they can keep that shit.
Maybe I am loosing my mind. The drink is finally taking its toll. Maybe its my age catching up to me. had the loss of my youth past me by? Am I now that delusional granddad in the club thinking he still has it as he tries to teach everyone the electric slide and calls them a ‘boring bunch’ if they refuse to join in? Do I have to give up my wild nights out? Do I have to settle down? If I can’t keep a track of a fucking pillow how the hell am I suppose to keep track of my life.
Did the pillow ever exist, or was it something I made up in my head as some kind of coping mechanism that reflected my inner turmoil of nothing is ever enough, 5 pillows is not enough I need a 6th even if its just an existential pillow I dreamt up?
I gave up the hunt. Upon getting up for a shower on the 3rd day I accidentally pulled the entire blanket procession (its cold there are many) off my bed and low and behold there it was. Hiding. Leaning perfectly erect against the end frame of my bed, completely hidden from view under the layers of blankets for 2 whole days. When I uncovered it, I could tell it was giving me a look of deepest disguised. If it could talk I imagine it would say something along the lines of ‘Where the hell have you been you complete bastard. I have been stranded here for days alone almost suffocating. I am on the floor, the god dam floor Raymond like some common throw pillow whore’.