Don't you love the way your pillow smells? Like so many tears, like your hair, like the delicious scent of sleep, like memories of dozing in the sun, like candy you ate as a child, like your clothes dryer, like air, like cotton, like cat fur, like you?
I miss Big Sarah. I forgot her at my dad's house. It's like losing your baby blanket, except mine is a bunny pillow. She has this lovely little soft patch under her chin where she stayed as soft as the day I got her (Christmas, 1993). Maybe being sentimental over a pillow is silly to you, but to me, it is comfort and security. Inside this fifteen-year-old-teenager, beats the heart of a six year old girl who lost her bunny.