You get what you pay for

God, I slept well last night. My head sunk deep into my pillow like the worm hole to dreamland lay on the other side of my ear. And it was open, not charging nominal fees. It’s hard to find free places such as these anymore. I suppose it’s because you’re never sure what kind of experience you’ll have. You could be in hell or in love. You could feel the slender fingers of someone lost and wake up with the touch-memory on your hand like you really held them in the night. You could be faced with all the people of your failures. They could forgive you. Or they could spray your mistakes like a new deck of cards at your feet and you’d have to touch them all over again. They could murder you and you’d still be alive.
If you could be promised only good dreams, would you pay for that?

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