Coat Check

The coat was there when I started.  Green leather, ancient and ragged.  Every night, it’s joined by dozens of others.  Every morning, it remains, along with the inevitable left-behinds.  The other coats are eventually picked up by embarrassed owners, but not this one.

I tried asking about it.  All I get are blank stares.  Like they don’t even see it.

When you touch it, you can tell it’s not leather.  It smells like leaves and dancing.

I work hard.  I keep my head down.  I don’t want to lose this job. 

I’ll be here when he comes back for it.