Le Charme Discret de la Bourgeoisie
I have a lifetime of dreams conceived curled up in a ball on the floor. Were they for naught? Can I really just walk away?
This is not a change to be taken lightly. The consequences could be dire. What will this do to my manufactured struggle? My integrity? My pretentiousness?
Will I have to do laundry?
I hope not.
But on the bright side, maybe this is just the gimmick needed to lure Björk to my warm embrace. How magical it should be, to lie side by side, singing of dinosaurs and true love into the night, keeping the neighbors awake until dawn.
I bought a second pillow, just in case.
Apparently pillow cases are called shams. How curious are the customs of the other half.