Awakening

It was so very black, and curly, rather cute, I wondered what if anything remarkable worth noting it could be. I had, in a small fit of splurging, acquired pillow covers, and sheets of snow white, somewhat semi-gloss and devinely textured damast-o-silk-o-satin. ' The only way to fly', the salesclerk had insisted, something akin to flying had been the order of the night and every night since she moved in. So, there it lay, as snug and happy as a lover who had just woken from a dream of cotton candy. And having duly noted and understood its right to rest its sleepy curls upon my pillow, by my side, I briefly wondered if she would prefer Gilette or Wilkinson.