The Wistful Witness
You have to understand that the coat was not mine, or at least, it never belonged to me in the way that a possession belongs to its owner, for it was a thing of such heavy, suffocating dignity, a garment of charcoal wool so dense and thick that it seemed to possess its own gravitational pull, a gravity that dragged me down into the cellar of my own history where the shadows are long and the air...
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