The clock on the wall of the Municipal Sanitation Bureau had stopped at 4:12 in the afternoon of that grey Tuesday, and no one seemed to notice, or perhaps no one cared, because the silence it projected was merely a variation on the eternal, humming silence of the city itself, a city that had long since ceased to be a collection of stones and iron and had instead become a living, breathing organism that digested its inhabitants as readily as it excreted their refuse, and I stood in the center of the archive room, surrounded by the smell of damp paper and old dust, holding the object that had been entrusted to me by a man who was no longer there, a man whose name I could no longer recall with any clarity, only the way he had looked at me, with eyes that seemed to see through the skin and into the marrow, and I was wearing the coat.

It was a simple thing, a heavy wool coat of a dark, indeterminate color, perhaps black, perhaps a deep, bruised purple, and it had been given to me by the Department of Urban Aesthetics when I was promoted to Senior Inspector of Moral Hygiene, a role that was supposed to be prestigious, a role that was supposed to carry weight, but which in reality carried only a crushing, suffocating pressure, a pressure that began in the soles of my feet and traveled up my spine, settling finally in the back of my throat, a pressure that whispered to me constantly, that told me I was not enough, that I was too slow, that I was too kind, that kindness was a flaw in the machinery of the state, and I had accepted this coat because I was told it was part of the uniform, part of the identity, and I had worn it every day for the last three years, and it had become so much a part of me that I could not remember what it felt like to be without it, I could not remember the weight of my own skin, I could not remember the temperature of the air on my bare arms, and now I held it in my hands, folded neatly, and it looked so small, so insignificant, and I felt a sudden, violent surge of grief, a grief that was so intense it made my vision blur, a grief that had no clear object, a grief that seemed to belong to the air itself, to the dust motes dancing in the shafts of light that fell through the high, grimy windows, a grief that was ancient and new at the same time, a grief that was the memory of a world that had never existed.

The door to the archive room opened, and Thomas Bradshaw walked in, his face pale, his eyes wide with a fear that he tried to hide but could not, and he looked at the coat in my hands, and he looked at me, and he said, in a voice that was barely a whisper, you were not supposed to open the crate, and I said, it was already open, Thomas, it was always open, and he said, you don't understand, the coat is not just a coat, it is a vessel, it is a container for the sins of the city, and if you take it off, if you remove it from your body, the sins will come out, and they will kill us, all of us, and I said, I am not afraid of sin, Thomas, I am afraid of the silence, I am afraid of the way the city swallows us whole, and he said, you are wrong, you are so wrong, the city is not a beast, the city is a garden, and we are the weeds, and if we pull up the weeds, the garden will die, and I said, I am not a weed, Thomas, I am the soil, and he laughed, a dry, rattling laugh that sounded like leaves skittering over pavement, and he said, you are nothing, you are less than nothing, you are a mistake, a glitch in the code, a bug in the system, and I said, I am the one who remembers, Thomas, I am the one who holds the memory of what we were before we became this, before we became the machines that we are now, and he said, memory is a curse, memory is a chain, and if you break the chain, you will break yourself, and I said, I am already broken, Thomas, I have been broken for a long time, I have been broken since the day I put on this coat, and he looked at me, and for a moment, I saw something in his eyes, something that looked like pity, something that looked like love, and then it was gone, and he turned and walked out of the room, and the door closed behind him, and I was alone, and I was wearing the coat.

I sat down in the chair by the window, and I looked out at the city, and the city looked back at me, and I saw the smoke rising from the factories, I saw the people moving along the streets like ants, I saw the trains rumbling through the stations, I saw the lights flickering on in the windows of the houses, and I thought, this is my life, this is my death, this is my beginning and my end, and I felt a strange, cold calm settle over me, a calm that was not peace, a calm that was not acceptance, but a kind of resignation, a kind of surrender, and I reached for the coat, and I began to take it off, and as I pulled it from my shoulders, I felt a pain, a sharp, stabbing pain in my chest, and I gasped, and I dropped the coat on the floor, and I looked at it, and I saw that it was not empty, it was full, it was full of something, I did not know what it was, but I knew that it was heavy, I knew that it was dark, and I knew that it was alive, and I stood up, and I walked to the door, and I opened it, and I stepped out into the hallway, and I walked down the stairs, and I walked out of the building, and I walked into the street, and I did not have the coat on, and I was naked, and I was cold, and I was free.

The people on the street looked at me, and they did not see a naked man, they saw a ghost, they saw a warning, they saw a sign, and they moved away from me, they stepped back, they crossed the street, and I walked on, and I did not care, I did not care about their fear, I did not care about their judgment, I did not care about the city, I did not care about the state, I did not care about Thomas, I did not care about anything, and I walked until I reached the river, and I stood on the bank, and I looked at the water, and the water was black, and the water was still, and I saw my reflection in the water, and I did not recognize it, it was not my face, it was not my body, it was something else, something old, something new, something that had been waiting for me, something that had been waiting for the world, and I smiled, and I threw my shoes into the water, and I threw my socks into the water, and I walked into the river, and the water rose around me, and it was cold, and it was dark, and it was quiet, and I thought, this is it, this is the end, this is the beginning, and I closed my eyes, and I let the water take me, and I let the city take me, and I let the silence take me, and I was gone, and I was here, and I was everywhere, and I was nowhere, and I was the coat, and I was the man, and I was the city, and I was the garden, and I was the weed, and I was the soil, and I was the water, and I was the air, and I was the light, and I was the dark, and I was the life, and I was the death, and I was the truth, and I was the lie, and I was the good, and I was the evil, and I was the one who remembers, and I was the one who forgets, and I was the one who loves, and I was the one who hates, and I was the one who hopes, and I was the one who despairs, and I was the one who lives, and I was the one who dies, and I was the one who is, and I was the one who is not, and I was the one who will be, and I was the one who was, and I was the one who is, and I was the one who is, and I was the one who is.

The clock on the wall of the Municipal Sanitation Bureau began to move again, and the second hand ticked, and the minute hand moved, and the hour hand crept forward, and the hands of the clock began to spin, and they spun faster and faster, and faster, and they blurred, and they became a circle, and they became a point, and they became a line, and they became a plane, and they became a volume, and they became a dimension, and they became a reality, and they became a world, and they became a universe, and they became a void, and they became a silence, and they became a nothing, and they became a something, and they became a everything, and they became a nothing, and they were still, and they were moving, and they were the same, and they were different, and they were the past, and they were the future, and they were the present, and they were the never, and they were the always, and they were the here, and they were the there, and they were the now, and they were the then, and they were the when, and they were the where, and they were the who, and they were the what, and they were the why, and they were the how, and they were the which, and they were the whether, and they were the if, and they were the unless, and they were the because, and they were the although, and they were the however, and they were the therefore, and they were the nevertheless, and they were the nonetheless, and they were the notwithstanding, and they were the notwithstanding, and they were the notwithstanding.

I woke up in my bed, and the sun was shining through the window, and the birds were singing, and the city was waking up, and I looked at my hands, and they were my hands, and I looked at my body, and it was my body, and I looked at the coat, and it was hanging on the chair, and it was just a coat, it was just wool, it was just fabric, it was just thread, it was just dye, it was just shape, it was just form, it was just function, it was just meaning, it was just nothing, and I stood up, and I put on the coat, and I walked out of my room, and I walked down the stairs, and I walked out of my house, and I walked into the street, and I walked to work, and I went to the archive room, and I opened the crate, and it was empty, and I closed the crate, and I locked the door, and I went to my desk, and I sat down, and I began to work, and I worked, and I worked, and I worked, and I did not think about the coat, I did not think about the city, I did not think about Thomas, I did not think about the river, I did not think about the water, I did not think about the silence, I did not think about anything, and I was happy, and I was sad, and I was angry, and I was calm, and I was alive, and I was dead, and I was here, and I was there, and I was now, and I was then, and I was who, and I was what, and I was why, and I was how, and I was which, and I was whether, and I was if, and I was unless, and I was because, and I was although, and I was however, and I was therefore, and I was nevertheless, and I was nonetheless, and I was notwithstanding.