Winter 2001

As I was walking down a hallway at work late one afternoon an attractive woman came out of a room ahead of me. She was tall and shapely, with thick blonde hair to her shoulders. Over a thick turtle-neck sweater she wore a full-length black leather coat. Her coat was obviously expensive and looked extremely soft. It had a shirt style collar and lots of buttons on a single-breasted placket. She wore it unbuttoned but tied it close about her with the belt. A leather purse hung on her shoulder.

I remember this lady in her leather coat particularly because of the sound she made in it. She swung her arm as she walked. Each of her movements produced a leathery squeak that I could hear plainly ten feet behind her. My path followed hers to an elevator, where she stopped and wrapped her arms around herself while she waited. As she crossed her arms, the rubbing leather of her coat creaked louder than ever. I passed by her, and went about my business.