Concerns of the bed chamber

I really, really have to get some new pillows. Usually they are masked by presentable pillow cases, but this morning while awaiting fresh bed linen the full horror was revealed.

The origin of these pillows is uncertain, but I probably got them from my mum when I moved into my own place. If they are from the family home they could well be in excess of twenty-five years old.

All the stuffing in them has migrated into unyielding clumps, resulting in some interesting patterns on the face in the morning. They are also covered in disturbing mystery stains, to the degree that a self-respecting tramp would reject them for reasons of hygiene.

But the thing is, they are exactly the right height for me to sleep on. It's impossible to find pillows of the correct slenderness in any shop. Ordinary plump pillows give me neck ache, so I'll just have to keep inhaling the corpses of decades-deceased bedbugs a bit longer.