The red plastic raincoat hanging near the door reminds me of my last girlfriend. In fact, when it first catches my eye, my hands get sweaty and my heartbeat quickens. Immediately I glance around the restaurant. I don’t see her.

Five minutes passes. I try not to stare at the coat. Finally, I say I need to make a call and walk through the tables and patrons, shifting my head from side to side. She’s not there. Maybe she’s in the restroom.

I go to the coat. I can’t help myself but reach into first one and then the other pocket. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Something that will confirm ending it was the right choice. These are clean, empty pockets. There isn’t even lint. I touch the sleeve. She was wearing it the last time I saw her.

“Excuse me, that’s my jacket. What the hell are you doing?”raincoat


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