Covered in eyelet and trimmed in pink satin, it stands ready in a room with pale pink walls. There is a changing table in the corner and a diaper stacker. The dresser is filled to overflowing with pink gowns and little footie pajamas, all with various baby animals on them. Everyone exclaims over the beautiful little bassinet but in four days more no one will notice it at all because of the little pink occupant that cries like clockwork every three hours.
Covered in large pastel flowers with 23 stuffed animals sitting upon it, 17 of them bears, one in particular has a pink tutu, a star wand with rainbow colored ribbons and pretty wings with sparklies. Every night this is the place to hear fairy tales of some princess or charming little girl, or beautiful lady warrior, or strong lady firefighter.
Covered in a comforter of bright pink and green geometric shapes barely visible under a Biology I book, laptop computer, I pod, cell phone, house phone, three t-shirts, her boyfriend’s letterman jacket, bag of chips half eaten, and three water bottles mostly empty.
Sheets and comforter all part of a $29 bed in a bag. The sheets are scratchy but not noticeable by the young newlyweds who spend an inordinate amount of time playing beneath them, in a tiny room, in a tiny apartment they can barely afford.
Egyptian cotton sheets, satin comforter cover a California king bed that has 12 pillows. Its occupants sleep on opposite sides, barely seeing the other because of the pillows, books, Wall Street Journal and laptop that lies between them.
White cotton, changed and laundered daily, under a flannel blanket that is straightened every time the nurse comes into the almost silent room, the only noise coming from the ventilator and the occasional beeping from the machine where the medicine for the IV hangs.