I really like coincidences, but I’ll keep this one short so as not to dwell on the subject.
Last week, I went on a short camping trip with my brothers. Since we were only sleeping outside for one night, I had plenty of room in my backpack and packed myself a pillow. After returning to civilization, I didn’t want to put the outdoors-encrusted pillow onto an otherwise fresh bed, so I grabbed a fresh pillowcase from my closet.
The case I pulled out gave me brief pause. I remember thinking to myself it had been a long time since I’d seen — or even thought about — it. A decade, at least. I slept with it every night starting around third grade, but it was somehow phased out of the rotation and ended up forgotten, toward the bottom of the pile. It only happened to be next in line last week because my whole family is home at the same time, which is a relatively rare occurrence — and even then, only because I happened to use an extra pillowcase for camping.
Anyway, I didn’t pay the pillowcase any unusual mind, until I went to bed on Monday:
Wish the “rest” in Rest in Peace was short for “bed rest”.