The Pillow

The pillow's happiest time of day was when he laid his head on it. The pillow felt useful and secure. His head of soft, fluffy curls gave the pillow purpose. The pillow felt wanted. The pillow felt needed. It would get it's comfort in a routine. Usually he would lay his head on the pillow for 8 hours, between 9pm and 6am. Occasionally there would be a time where he laid his head on the pillow during the day for a nap. Those were the pillows favorite days. It was 6am and he woke up and left the pillow. The pillow was sad, but knew he would be needed again by the time 9pm rolled around. The pillow waited anxiously for his security to be satisfied. It was 8:59pm and the pillow was ready, excited. 9pm came, and he never came. the pillow waited and waited. Three days went by and still, no head was laid on the pillow. Five days later and someone came in crying. It was not him. She grabbed the pillow and threw it in the trash can. The pillow felt uselss. The pillow felt insecure and empty. He never came and eventually the pillow gave up. Without him, he was nothing. He could do nothing or be nothing. He was gone and so was the pillow.