Coats spend a lot of time waiting and some coats spend more time waiting than others.

In some parts of the world raincoats wait like dusty mummies where in others they hardly hang long enough to dry.

As soon as they’re sewn, coats start waiting. Down at the store they hang in rows waiting to be bought. Then they wait in the car, then again in the closet at home. They wait in groups or alone, on hangers, pegs, hooks and doorknobs. They lie in the grass or dangle on fence posts.

Some drape themselves over chairs in children's bedrooms where, in the dark, they become much more than coats.

There was once a very happy coat who was a regular in the great coatrooms of the city. He was well tailored and suited for bistros and balconies. One warm evening he was forgotten in a theater. A week passed and then a month. Eventually he went home to the coat check guy's closet. There he waited with strangers and a few friends he hadn't seen in years. He waited and waited and waited and finally was taken to the thrift store. There he waited with a bunch of weirdos.

But he only waited a week before he was bought for having all his buttons and went home with someone new. Soon he was back in the cars and on trains and at parties in piles on beds.

One day, while he waited on a café peg, he felt the quick hand of a thief slip warmly into his pocket and steal a small book.