Woolen Walls

Avatar Author: Robert Quick A no-name, aspiring author who can't stop writing. Looking ahead, he strives for perfection. Shackled by various forms of entertainment, he dreams of success. Most stories here are an invitation to YOU, to join me in cre... Read Bio

I wore my cloak of depression to ward myself from a cruel and lonely world. The thick wool stank of sour milk or sulfur, depending on which side you stood. It had been ten long years since I had donned the cloak and it was still as strong and durable as the day I had earned it.

Between the stench buried deep within the fibers of the cloak and its outer scratchiness, people began to shy away from me. I guess it could have something to do with the cloak’s outward appearance too. Few people like a Grim Reaper lurking around their bright colored balloons or watching over their children.

Still, it wasn’t perfect. Loneliness penetrated the deep folds of the cloak from time to time like a stabbing wind. I never knew what to do during those times. Often paralyzed by indecision I would do nothing except wrap my cloak tighter around me until the feeling passed.

Today was different. I felt, more than heard, a whisper calling my name and for the first time in ten years I pushed the hood down to experience the world.

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Comments (2 so far!)

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  1. Avatar Princess Binky Lemontwist (LoA)

    That sounds so tragic but with a slight glimmer of hope. Good job with your metaphorical sense of writing. :D

  2. Avatar Jae

    At first I thought the cloak was physical. This could easily step into allegory, with the way you brought the symbolism and cloak’s presence together so closely.