I needed a standard, beyond that I was lost. Down and faux down, soft and medium and hard and you'd think I was ordering eggs. Sample pillows sat out with tags and little signs instructing me to try, to "FEEL HOW SOFT!" I thought about a hundred strangers' skin, a hundred drops of drool. I poked and prodded with my fingers, that was as much as they were getting out of me. This one for back sleepers, this one for stomach, this for both. Another for side, another unmarked. How did I usually sleep? Not well, I thought. Every morning I woke up with the covers in disarray. The only nights I truly didn't move were the ones when the drink put me down. It sings a halting lullaby. But maybe some new pillows would stop me, too, soft and gentle like they're supposed to. I looked around for oncoming traffic, saw none, and buried my face in one.
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