Impermeable Skin
K. acquired the jacket on an ordinary rainy day. Neither bought nor gifted, it simply appeared in the hallway of his cramped apartment, hanging on the sole coat hook, as if it had always been there. The jacket was dark gray, a kind of lifeless gray that absorbed light. The label bore some indistinct symbols and a line of small text: "Highly waterproof, isolates everything." K. didn't think much of it at the time; the city was rainy, and a functional jacket was always useful. He even felt a secret delight, as if it were some anonymous favor.