An unused pillow is a world in itself (literary aphorism)

There were two pillows on the bed in her room at dusk. However, one of them had never been used. Tanya got up from her rest from working and returned to her working station. The same place she would call the bathroom, as she sat down and listened to a podcast about gymnasts while she peed. These were her working hours, however, she was clearly not working hours.

She had a husband, but he wasn’t home yet. They had plans, but they had not materialized. Tanya dreamt about sleeping and waking up next to him, but they’d shatted repeatedly every time she regained consciousness next to the empty pillow.


In reality, nothing is any one way. Everything is bursting with novelty. It’s being so engaged inside this artifically superimposed world of simple answers that makes everything seem mundane.


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