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The best coat
The best coat
On Monday, at the antique store, Madam Godet bought the best coat in the entire world. The coat was dense and rectangular, like a spectacle case. It had big tear under the left sleeve and a literally bottomless right pocket.
At home, Madam Godet put her hand into the pocket for the first time and found a handful of coins in its void. In this way, the coat paid for itself. The second time, she discovered a shabby book in the pocket. The cover mentioned something about “works”, and Madam Godet snorted, “What nonsense! I had to dig into this pocket up to my elbow for this?!”
But when she reached into the pocket up to her shoulder, something scratched her fingers. Dozens of tiny sharp-clawed paws stomped over her tight skin — a family of rats burst into the sunlight, scattering and forcing Madam Godet to throw the coat on the floor. She hid in the bedroom and stayed there for two days.
At home, Madam Godet put her hand into the pocket for the first time and found a handful of coins in its void. In this way, the coat paid for itself. The second time, she discovered a shabby book in the pocket. The cover mentioned something about “works”, and Madam Godet snorted, “What nonsense! I had to dig into this pocket up to my elbow for this?!”
But when she reached into the pocket up to her shoulder, something scratched her fingers. Dozens of tiny sharp-clawed paws stomped over her tight skin — a family of rats burst into the sunlight, scattering and forcing Madam Godet to throw the coat on the floor. She hid in the bedroom and stayed there for two days.
Yet Madam Godet returned, curious and greedy. In the strange pocket, she found a rusted knife, a basket of mushrooms, a beautiful dinner set, and a gold pendant with a tarnished chain. Each time, she delved deeper, until she glimpsed an attractive golden glimmer in the void.
Soon, Madam Godet spent most of her time inside the pocket. She crawled headfirst into its dark folds like a frantic caterpillar hunting for succulent leaves.
To mark the entrance, she built wooden supports with sticks found on Friday evening. Through this tunnel, she hauled thousands of items into her apartment: ancient relics, modern magazines, mind-blowing gears, and dirty napkins — all chaotically piled into seven colossal mountains around a new empire of madness.
Soon, Madam Godet spent most of her time inside the pocket. She crawled headfirst into its dark folds like a frantic caterpillar hunting for succulent leaves.
To mark the entrance, she built wooden supports with sticks found on Friday evening. Through this tunnel, she hauled thousands of items into her apartment: ancient relics, modern magazines, mind-blowing gears, and dirty napkins — all chaotically piled into seven colossal mountains around a new empire of madness.
On Sunday, a neighbor came to the cluttered apartment. She often visited Madam Godet to discuss her relatives` inappropriate behavior. Shocked by the peaks and ridges of garbage, she crawled to where the kitchen used to be. There, near the pocket’s exit, the neighbor encountered the red-faced, disheveled Madam Godet, noisily sniffling as she dragged out rotten fruit, torn shoes, and a pair of marble hands from an unknown female statue.
The women locked eyes. Suddenly, one of the snow-white marble hands — held by Madam Godet — countless times slammed onto the neighbor’s head, turning it dark red from shoulder to fingertips.
The women locked eyes. Suddenly, one of the snow-white marble hands — held by Madam Godet — countless times slammed onto the neighbor’s head, turning it dark red from shoulder to fingertips.
For the first time since acquiring the coat, Madam Godet dragged something into the gaping black pocket. She walked backward, hauling the neighbor’s body by the legs until the pocket’s folds crumpled underfoot, and time itself clumped into a single mass. Wheezing, she finally stopped, unclenched her stiffened fingers, and turned back.
She felt the exit was close, but distant lights became a lonely firefly, a burning candle, a torn bedsheet draped over a mannequin. Exhausted, Madam Godet got down on her knees, then collapsed onto her belly, right arm outstretched. She did not move a muscle thereafter.
A second later, the darkness vanished. A stranger’s hand reached into the pocket of the best coat in the entire world. It groped beneath the black folds and suddenly brushed against the tight skin of the woman.
She felt the exit was close, but distant lights became a lonely firefly, a burning candle, a torn bedsheet draped over a mannequin. Exhausted, Madam Godet got down on her knees, then collapsed onto her belly, right arm outstretched. She did not move a muscle thereafter.
A second later, the darkness vanished. A stranger’s hand reached into the pocket of the best coat in the entire world. It groped beneath the black folds and suddenly brushed against the tight skin of the woman.
On Monday, at the antique store, Madam Godet bought the best coat in the entire world. The coat was dense and rectangular, like a spectacle case. It had big tear under the left sleeve and a literally bottomless right pocket.
At home, Madam Godet put her hand into the pocket for the first time and found a handful of coins in its void. In this way, the coat paid for itself. The second time, she discovered a shabby book in the pocket. The cover mentioned something about “works”, and Madam Godet snorted, “What nonsense! I had to dig into this pocket up to my elbow for this?!”
But when she reached into the pocket up to her shoulder, something scratched her fingers. Dozens of tiny sharp-clawed paws stomped over her tight skin — a family of rats burst into the sunlight, scattering and forcing Madam Godet to throw the coat on the floor. She hid in the bedroom and stayed there for two days.
At home, Madam Godet put her hand into the pocket for the first time and found a handful of coins in its void. In this way, the coat paid for itself. The second time, she discovered a shabby book in the pocket. The cover mentioned something about “works”, and Madam Godet snorted, “What nonsense! I had to dig into this pocket up to my elbow for this?!”
But when she reached into the pocket up to her shoulder, something scratched her fingers. Dozens of tiny sharp-clawed paws stomped over her tight skin — a family of rats burst into the sunlight, scattering and forcing Madam Godet to throw the coat on the floor. She hid in the bedroom and stayed there for two days.
Yet Madam Godet returned, curious and greedy. In the strange pocket, she found a rusted knife, a basket of mushrooms, a beautiful dinner set, and a gold pendant with a tarnished chain. Each time, she delved deeper, until she glimpsed an attractive golden glimmer in the void.
Soon, Madam Godet spent most of her time inside the pocket. She crawled headfirst into its dark folds like a frantic caterpillar hunting for succulent leaves.
To mark the entrance, she built wooden supports with sticks found on Friday evening. Through this tunnel, she hauled thousands of items into her apartment: ancient relics, modern magazines, mind-blowing gears, and dirty napkins — all chaotically piled into seven colossal mountains around a new empire of madness.
Soon, Madam Godet spent most of her time inside the pocket. She crawled headfirst into its dark folds like a frantic caterpillar hunting for succulent leaves.
To mark the entrance, she built wooden supports with sticks found on Friday evening. Through this tunnel, she hauled thousands of items into her apartment: ancient relics, modern magazines, mind-blowing gears, and dirty napkins — all chaotically piled into seven colossal mountains around a new empire of madness.
On Sunday, a neighbor came to the cluttered apartment. She often visited Madam Godet to discuss her relatives` inappropriate behavior. Shocked by the peaks and ridges of garbage, she crawled to where the kitchen used to be. There, near the pocket’s exit, the neighbor encountered the red-faced, disheveled Madam Godet, noisily sniffling as she dragged out rotten fruit, torn shoes, and a pair of marble hands from an unknown female statue.
The women locked eyes. Suddenly, one of the snow-white marble hands — held by Madam Godet — countless times slammed onto the neighbor’s head, turning it dark red from shoulder to fingertips.
The women locked eyes. Suddenly, one of the snow-white marble hands — held by Madam Godet — countless times slammed onto the neighbor’s head, turning it dark red from shoulder to fingertips.
For the first time since acquiring the coat, Madam Godet dragged something into the gaping black pocket. She walked backward, hauling the neighbor’s body by the legs until the pocket’s folds crumpled underfoot, and time itself clumped into a single mass. Wheezing, she finally stopped, unclenched her stiffened fingers, and turned back.
She felt the exit was close, but distant lights became a lonely firefly, a burning candle, a torn bedsheet draped over a mannequin. Exhausted, Madam Godet got down on her knees, then collapsed onto her belly, right arm outstretched. She did not move a muscle thereafter.
A second later, the darkness vanished. A stranger’s hand reached into the pocket of the best coat in the entire world. It groped beneath the black folds and suddenly brushed against the tight skin of the woman.
She felt the exit was close, but distant lights became a lonely firefly, a burning candle, a torn bedsheet draped over a mannequin. Exhausted, Madam Godet got down on her knees, then collapsed onto her belly, right arm outstretched. She did not move a muscle thereafter.
A second later, the darkness vanished. A stranger’s hand reached into the pocket of the best coat in the entire world. It groped beneath the black folds and suddenly brushed against the tight skin of the woman.
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