It was orange and brown; a warm nylon/Polyester jacket, down- filled to keep away the Ellensburg wind. It engulfed little Ricky, making him feel ridiculously small and silly, and he was determined to lose it at school that day. It was easy, the spring sun shone down and the coat stripped itself off, anthropomorphically, landing on a recess bench, forgotten.
42 years passed, and the coat returned to him, turned inside out, and named Cheryl.
She was still orange and brown, but now She fit him perfectly. When passing a mirror, he caught a glimpse of his figure with Cheryl on, and liked how he looked. This time, he would cherish her, and with any luck, she would not be lost.
