About

Still admits that something happened. It does not say what. It does not ask for sympathy. It refuses to stop being grateful about it.

It is worn on the day after. Something closed. They get dressed anyway.

The heaviest plain thing they own, with two inches of red script at the chest that nobody across the room can read.

The cloth is heavy because it has to feel like armour, not like a statement.

The category photographs arrival. Blessed photographs the setback.