From the critically acclaimed author of The Mysteries comes a haunting, lyrical, and provocative novel of a young woman’s coming-of-age betwixt dream and reality. Here there’s only one thing more dangerous than desire—getting what you want....
As a child, Agnes Grey dreamed of the perfect friend to ease her loneliness: a doll that would talk to her, tell her stories, share her secrets. Only her aunt Marjorie seemed to really understand. Something of an outcast herself, she told Agnes she’d had just such a doll when she was a child. She called it her pillow friend. So when Agnes receives her very own pillow friend—an old-fashioned porcelain doll painted to look like an old-world gentleman—she’s certain her dreams have come true. And so they have—but in ways that Agnes could never have imagined. For as the line between fantasy and reality blurs, Agnes discovers that every dream has its price and every desire must be paid for. Be very careful what you wish for...he’ll surely give it to you.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of eBook: The Pillow Friend|
|Release Date: 12-27-2005|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||The Pillow Friend|
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The Pillow Friend
THE DOLL AND THE BOOK
Loneliness drove her to create an imaginary object of worship. This sublimation of her need of love she named Corambe, and for many years this glorified being was her constant companion. When she began to write, it was Corambe who composed her stories-she merely heard and recorded the words he spoke.
-Marie Jenney Howe on George Sand
Agnes Grey had a new doll, a present from her mother. It was what she had always wanted. Nothing had ever made her so happy.
The doll was almost as big as a real baby, and it was warm, and soft, and cuddly. It had the sweetest face she had ever seen. As she gazed lovingly into its big blue eyes she suddenly realized, with a warm thrill of excitement, that the doll was looking back at her. The eyes were real. The doll was real. And then it spoke.
Agnes woke, the sound of the doll's words still ringing in the quiet air of her bedroom. Wanting to reenter the dream, she kept her eyes closed and concentrated on the warm, golden glow of happiness she had felt while holding the doll. In a moment, she would feel its welcome weight in her arms and understand what it was saying to her. But reality was too strong. Instead of the doll's voice she heard the central heating blowing warm dry air through the ceiling vent, and felt the sunlight which sifted through the Venetian blinds onto her arms and eyelids. She was sweating beneath the covers, so she kicked her legs until the quilt slipped off the bed like a sulky cat. Then she sat up and looked around, hoping that the dream was true, a memory instead of a fantasy, and everything would be changed.
But as she looked around her familiar, cluttered room,