They say the real journey is internal. I decided to test that, and I stayed on a single blue cushion for seven days. I did not leave except for meals and one regrettable incident involving a door.
On day one, I noticed the stitching. On day three, I found a crumb from the previous owner, a man named Greg. On day five, I understood something about time, and I forgot it by day six. On day seven, I felt more rested than I have ever been.
The cushion has asked me to stay. I am considering it. I told it I would think it over, and then I fell asleep, which I think is a yes.
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