The coat

“I always wanted to be a summer dress”, said the wrinkled wool coat. “A flowery summer dress. The kind of dress that women wore at parties, gala dinners and outdoor evenings. Where music played all night long, and fresh breezes caressed smooth delicate naked shoulders. Where women smelling like vanilla and coconut, danced to the rhythmic nocturnal beats of fresh sounds, shaking their soft body under my skin. I would feel so fine, so free, like a satin queen”.

It was dark and damp, in the closet, where the wool coat laid. Hanging on a metal wire, in a triangular form, since ages, he grew accustomed to that smell. The moldy smell of forgotten things. He was one of them, overlooked and old. He had not seen the sunlight since years. He doesn’t remember what it looked like, what it felt like, to stand in the sun, outside. 

“Oh shut up! You and your superficial dreams” replied the brown leather jacket. “The same old story, every night, just grow up. You were born a wool coat, not a satin dress, just accept it and spare us the fantasies”.

“Come on jacket, don’t be so hard on the boy, if he wants to dream he’s satin dress, let him be. I don’t understand why you have to be so hard on him”. Objected the worn out purple sweater. She was oversized and long, resembling a comfy grandma. The type you would want to hold when everything is collapsing. She tried to push herself to get closer to the wool coat. But couldn’t, she was so heavy and tired. “I’m sure you will realize your dream sooner or later, dear, now try to get some sleep” She whispered tenderly to the coat, before tucking her sleeves around her waist.

That night the coat dreamed he was in a ball, where he was worn by a beautiful woman, he was floating in the air. Lights came from every corner, and he was drowning in a sea of colors and shades that intoxicated his being.

“Hey there” a low voice said. “I can help you”

“Who is this” Asked the coat.

“I’m the needle, look at the right corner”

There it was, glittering in the dark.

“I can sew satin fabric on your skin, I can transform you into a gorgeous summer dress” added the rusted needle.

“Really, can you do that? It would be so wonderful” asked the thrilled coat.

“Sure, I just need to find a pair of scissors and a satin cloth” said the needle.

“But where can we find them? We cannot leave the closet, and no one will open it anytime soon”

“We have to look around, and think outside the box”

“You’re right, we have to be creative, that’s the only way”

The coat kept his silence for a while before closing his eyes again. When he woke up, he found a satin scarf next to him. Although crumpled, its vibrant red and orange colors stood out like an imagined sun.   

“So what do you think about this?” Asked the needle.

“It is perfect! Where did you find her?” enquired the coat.

“Just laying there, in the corner” answered the needle.

“She seems unconscious” said the coat, observing the lifeless cloth. 

“She is always like this, since the day I met her. It’s probably from all of those perfume bottles she drank in her youth. It must have ruined her head after all” said the needle.

“She looks so pretty though” said the coat.

“Exactly, now imagine her fabric covering your wrinkled wool?”

“A delight. But what if she refused?”

“She is unconscious, she probably, wouldn’t know”

Slowly, the coat rose the satin scarf to its collar level. That was the fabric he always wished he was made of, not this rough textile.

The needle was quick to act, it patched the satin scarf unto the coat’s collar in swift movements.

The satisfied coat was awakened by sobbing sounds. It was the satin scarf.

“How can you do this? Release from this prison right now” she Shouted.

“But I wanted you to embellish me” said the coat.

“You didn’t ask my opinion”.

“Why wouldn’t we? You are always unconscious. What difference will it make?” replied the needle.

“She has right to say whether she wants to be sewed on not on the coat’s collar” interrupted the sweater.

“Oh, stop. All of you, stop. The scarf is staying and all of you who object will be stitched to me” said the coat in anger.

“That’s right, show them who’s boss” said the needle enthusiastically.

“Now needle, come hurry up, stick your sword in the scarf’s belly, let’s get rid of her annoying voice once for all”. 

In few seconds, the scarf was dead and it body rested beautifully on the coat’s collar.

“You criminal! How can you do this?” Groaned the leather jacket in a heavy sound.

Before he knew it, the leather jacket lost both its sleeves to the coat. It has now leather sleeves stitched unto his old ones.

“I feel fantastic and exquisite; don’t I needle?” asked the coat.

“Sure thing” the needle replied.

That night the coat dreamt the same dream. He was in a ballroom, worn by a beautiful woman. She was dancing, all eyes were on him. “They envy us coat”, the woman whispered, “we look so good together”. Then all of sudden, the music stopped, the woman stood still. He heard mocking in the background. A loud voice came through. “Is this a coat? Is this dress? Is this a jacket? What the hell is this?” The coat couldn’t speak nor did the woman. She threw the coat on the ground and hurried out. Cold and soggy, every shoe stepped on him, every leg kicked him, in the heart, in the lungs, in the head.

When he woke up. He called to the needle and to the sweater, his beloved grandma, there was no one, only him, in the closet with new purple patches attached on his sides like pockets. He looked colorful and strange, like a gipsy in a funereal, like a rainbow of choas.

After few years, a woman opened up the closet. It was empty, except for a weird looking coat. When she tried it on, she disappeared and was not seen again. Only ballroom music was heard every now and then. As for the coat, he took his place in the closet, dreaming of balls and music that expelled the loneliness. He dreamt the same dream every night.