My fella bought me a new coat.
It is woolen and snugly warm. You can pull the collar up around your neck and bury your chin in when you don't feel so bold. The pockets are just the right size for my hands, built in mittens. My perpetually icy hands don't need to be anymore. When I sit in it I feel as though I am wrapped in a blanket, it's weight and warmth, I feel safe.
It is the colour of soft loved red.
It isn't smooth, it's just a little bumpy, soft curls of wool I run my hands over again and again.
It comes to my knees and lets my legs peep out as I walk sending the sides out like a cape. I feel like a beautiful superhero.
It's from the fifties. I don't know who wore it before me but they would have been warm, I wonder how they felt in it? Did they run their hands over it's soft woolly curls?
When I take it off I feel a little naked. But my hands are warm and I can almost still feel it's weight on my shoulders, not a bad weight, a good weight, the type of weight that helps you feel your feet on the ground and know you won't drift away with the breeze.
My fella bought me a new coat.
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