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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Experience · #1920480
The devil left his jacket there in the hills. You didn't know that when you picked it up.
The Jacket

         for O.E.

The devil left his jacket there in the hills. You didn't know that when you picked it up. You only wanted to stay warm and dry in the tropical rain. But the jacket wanted to travel, so you traveled with it; wore it everyday until it became the color of your flesh, invisible even to you. Its hood hooked tendrils that tangled your brain. Its zipper choked off your heart as you grew but it didn't. What we knew... what you didn't... could've saved you. But the jacket fought for existence, lashed out at those who would've removed it. It killed in a rage when thirsty for what it didn't get, couldn't have. The jacket became you. Now the devil is searching the hills. He has come to take it back.

© Kåre Enga [168.251] November 25, 2011.

Note to self, earlier version: The devil left his jacket there in the hills. You didn't know that when you picked it up. You only wanted to stay warm and dry in the tropical rain. But the jacket wanted to travel, so you traveled with it, wore it everyday until it became the color of your flesh, invisible even to you. Its hood hooked tendrils that tangled your brain. Its zipper choked off your heart as you grew, but it didn't. What you knew... what we didn't... could've saved you. But the jacket fought for existence, lashed out at those who would've removed it. It killed in a rage when thirsty for what it didn't get, couldn't have. The jacket became you. Now the devil is searching the hills. He has come to take it back.
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