The rain hits the cobblestones. It is cold. You are standing at the gate. Your mother is inside. She is holding the door. She does not look at you. Her hands are white. She grips the wood. The wood groans. You look down at your feet. You are wearing the blue coat. It is old. It is thin. The wool is worn gray at the elbows. You bought it at the market. It cost two silver pieces. You have only one left in your pocket. You count it. It is cold against your thumb.

"Go," she says. Her voice is flat. "Go now."

You do not move. The rain soaks your hair. It runs into your eyes. You blink. The world blurs. "I am hungry, Mother."

"Then eat the rain."

She steps back. The door slams. The sound is a crack. It echoes in the alley. You stand there. You are alone. The city is vast. It is gray. The buildings are tall. They block the sky. You walk. Your feet hurt. The cobblestones are slick. You slip. You catch yourself. You bleed from the palm. You do not cry. You do not have time to cry.

You need food. You need money. You have the coat. You have the coin. You go to the square. The square is wet. There are stalls. They are closing. The vendors are pulling up their awnings. The fabric flaps in the wind. You see a man. He is selling apples. The apples are red. They are bright. They look like fire. You stop. You look at the man. He looks at you. His eyes are hard.

"How much?" you ask.

"Two pennies," he says.

You have one. You hold it up. It is silver. It glints. The man sniffs. "I take coin. Or goods."

You look at your coat. The blue coat. It is your shield. It is your skin. It is all you have. You take it off. The air hits your chest. It bites. You hold the coat out.

"Is this worth it?" you ask.

The man takes it. He runs his fingers over the wool. He frowns. "It is old. It is thin. It is worth nothing."

"Take it," you say. "Give me the apple."

He shrugs. He takes the coat. He hands you an apple. The apple is cold. It is wet. You bite into it. The juice runs down your chin. It is sweet. It is sharp. You eat it. You chew. You swallow. Your stomach knots. You are still hungry. The man watches you. He does not speak. He goes back to his stall. He pulls up the awning. You are left with the wet cobblestones. You are left with the cold.

You walk to the river. The river is dark. It moves fast. You sit on the bank. The stone is cold. You pull your knees to your chest. You are shivering. Your teeth chatter. You think of the coat. It is gone. It was blue. It was yours. You made a hole in the lining when you were a child. You sewed it with red thread. You remember the needle. You remember the thread. You remember the pain. It is gone now. It is in the man’s hands. It is in the market. It is not yours.

A shadow falls over you. You look up. A woman is standing there. She is tall. She wears a gray dress. Her hair is bound tight. She looks at you. She does not smile.

"You are shivering," she says.

"I am cold," you say.

"Come with me."

You hesitate. The rain is heavy. It is getting darker. You stand up. Your legs are weak. You walk beside her. She does not look at you. She walks fast. You have to run to keep up. Your breath is steam. It fogs in the air. She leads you into a building. It is old. The door is heavy. It creaks. The inside is dark. There is a smell of dust. There is a smell of wood.

"Sit," she says.

You sit on a bench. The bench is hard. She goes to a fire. It is small. It is dying. She pokes it. The embers glow. She brings you a bowl. It is hot. It is broth. It smells of onions. You drink. The warmth spreads. It goes to your hands. It goes to your feet. It goes to your stomach. You feel weak. You feel light.

"Who are you?" you ask.

"I am Elspeth," she says. "Who are you?"

"I am... I don't know."

"You have no name?"

"I had one. I lost it."

Elspeth looks at you. Her eyes are kind. They are tired. "Stay here tonight. It is too cold outside."

You nod. You do not speak. You are too tired to speak. She leaves you. You lie down on the straw. It is dry. It is warm. You close your eyes. You dream of the blue coat. You dream of the red thread. You dream of your mother’s hand. You dream of the coin in your pocket. You wake up. It is morning. The light is gray. Elspeth is standing over you. She holds a basket. It is full of clothes.

"Put these on," she says.

You sit up. You take the clothes. They are clean. They are gray. They are thick. You put them on. They fit well. They are warm. You look in the mirror. The mirror is old. The glass is cloudy. You see your face. It is pale. Your eyes are hollow. But you are dry. You are clean. You are alive.

"Thank you," you say.

"Do not thank me. Work for me."

"What work?"

"I have a shop. I sell shawls. I need hands. I need someone who is quiet. Who is obedient."

"I am quiet," you say. "I am obedient."

She nods. "Come."

You follow her out. The rain has stopped. The sky is clear. It is blue. You look at the sky. You think of your blue coat. It was blue. It is gone. You feel a pang. It is small. It is sharp. You walk with Elspeth. You do not look back.

You work in the shop. The shop is in a narrow street. The street is quiet. The customers are few. They are old. They are rich. They buy shawls. They buy wraps. They buy veils. You fold them. You stack them. You sweep the floor. You do not speak. You do not complain. Your hands are rough. Your hands are strong. You are happy. You are not hungry. You are not cold. You are safe.

Weeks pass. The weather changes. The leaves fall. The air turns crisp. You are good at your job. You are fast. You are careful. Elspeth is pleased. She gives you a break. She lets you sit. She gives you bread. You eat it slowly. You savor it. You think of the apple. You think of the man in the market. You think of the blue coat.

One day, a customer enters. It is a man. He is old. He wears a black coat. He looks at the shawls. He picks one up. It is gray. It is soft. He holds it to his face. He smells it.

"Is this new?" he asks.

"Yes," Elspeth says.

"How much?"

"Ten gold pieces."

He smiles. It is a cold smile. "I will take it."

He pays. Elspeth wraps the shawl. She hands it to him. He leaves. The door closes. You watch him go. You see his coat. It is blue. It is old. It is thin. It is worn gray at the elbows.

Your heart stops. You know that coat. You know the hole in the lining. You know the red thread. It is your coat. It is back.

You run to the door. You open it. The street is empty. The man is gone. He is gone. You close the door. Your hands are shaking. You look at Elspeth. She is counting the coins. She does not look up.

"Did you see him?" you ask.

"See who?"

"The man. The man with the blue coat."

Elspeth stops. She looks at you. Her face is blank. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"He had my coat," you say. "He bought the shawl. He had my coat."

Elspeth sighs. "You are tired. You are confused. Go to your room. Rest."

You go to your room. It is small. It is dark. You sit on the bed. You are confused. You are angry. You are scared. You think about the market. You think about the man. He took your coat. He sold it? No. He bought the shawl. He had the coat. Why? Who is he?

You do not sleep. You think. You think of your mother. You think of the gate. You think of the rain. You think of the apple. You think of the coin. You have the coin. It is in your pocket. You take it out. It is silver. It is cold. You look at it. It is the same coin. The coin you used to buy the coat? No. You bought the coat with two silver pieces. You had one left. You spent the other on the apple? No. You bought the apple with the coin? No. You gave the coat for the apple. You kept the coin.

Wait.

You gave the coat. The man took the coat. You got the apple. You kept the coin. The man in the shop had the coat. He bought the shawl. He paid ten gold pieces. He had the coin? No. He paid gold.

You are confused. You are lost. You stand up. You go to the window. You look out. The street is empty. It is night. The moon is full. It is bright. You see a shadow. It moves. It is tall. It is thin. It wears a blue coat.

You scream. You bang on the glass. "Elspeth!"

She comes. She is angry. "What is wrong?"

"He is there. The man. He is in the street. He has the coat."

Elspeth looks out. She frowns. "There is no one there."

"I see him," you say. "I see the blue coat."

Elspeth grabs your arm. She pulls you back. "You are sick. You are feverish. You are imagining things."

You look out again. The street is empty. There is no one. There is no coat. There is only the rain. The rain starts to fall. It is hard. It is cold. You are wet. You are shaking.

Elspeth looks at you. Her face is hard. It is not kind. It is not tired. It is cold. It is like the man in the market.

"Get out," she says.

"What?"

"Get out of my house. You are a thief. You stole the shawl. You are a liar. You are a beggar. Get out."

You look at her. You do not understand. "I did not steal anything. I worked for you. I swept the floor. I folded the shawls."

"Lies," she says. "The shawl is gone. The money is gone. You took it. You sold it. You bought the coat. You are back to begging. You are back to the street."

"I did not steal the shawl! The man bought it!"

"Which man? There was no man. I sold it to no one. You are mad. You are delusional. Get out."

She pushes you. You fall. You hit the floor. You get up. You run. You run to the door. You open it. The cold hits you. The rain hits you. You run into the street.

You run. You do not know where. You run to the square. The square is empty. The stalls are closed. The awnings are down. You run to the river. The river is dark. You stop. You are breathless. You are soaked. You are shivering.

You look down. You are wearing the gray clothes. They are heavy. They are wet. You feel cold. You feel empty. You look at your hands. They are empty. You reach for your pocket. You feel the coin. It is there. It is silver. It is cold.

You look at the river. The water moves. It is black. It reflects the moon. You throw the coin in. It disappears. It is gone.

You stand there. You are alone. You are wet. You are cold. You are hungry. You have no coat. You have no money. You have no home. You have no name.

You look at the sky. It is clear now. The rain has stopped. The stars are out. They are bright. They are cold. You look at them. You see a pattern. It is a circle. It is a loop. It is a wheel.

You think of the blue coat. You think of the red thread. You think of the apple. You think of the broth. You think of the shawl. You think of the lie.

You realize it. You did not lose the coat. You gave it away. You did not lose the coin. You threw it away. You did not lose your home. You were thrown out. You did not lose your name. You never had one.

You are the wheel. You are the turn. You are the beginning. You are the end.

You turn around. You walk back to the gate. It is your mother’s gate. It is the gate you left. It is the gate you fear. You stand before it. The door is closed. You knock. No one answers. You knock again. No one answers.

You open the door. It is unlocked. The house is dark. The house is empty. There is no mother. There is no bed. There is no food. There is only dust.

You walk through the house. You walk to the back. There is a box. It is old. It is wooden. You open it. Inside is a coat. It is blue. It is old. It is thin. It is worn gray at the elbows.

You pick it up. It is warm. It is dry. You put it on. It fits. It is yours. It was always yours.

You close the box. You walk to the front. You open the door. The street is empty. The rain is falling. It is cold. You step out. You walk into the night. You walk into the city. You walk into the dark. You walk into the rain.

You are walking. You are always walking. The coat is blue. The thread is red. The coin is gone. The name is gone. The self is gone.

You are here. You are there. You are nowhere.

You keep walking.