Sanitorium

Last night I slept in the most perfect bed ever conceptualized. Mattress extra firm, but with some give, queen-sized, immaculately clean, and so straight it was likely evened with a level. Taut, heavenly thread-count, sanitary sheets. Pillows and duvet light, but with substantial enough feathers to keep me warm against the cold Viennese night.
I am in Vienna. In my own temporary apartment, arranged by a kindly host and mad genius. After the trauma of this past week, I can’t think of a better place to recuperate than quiet, clean, civilized, and uptight Austria. Fear of squandering my good fortune is probably why I didn’t sleep a wink despite all the comfort.

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