A Coat That Still Melts Like Rain

Told in fragments like prayers left between the pages of forgotten books, it follows the narrator's years with a woman who walks like dusk; quiet, deliberate, and unafraid of silence. She folds belief into laundry, hangs grief on walls like hymns, and teaches that love is "a coat that still melts like rain."
After her quiet departure from the world, the narrator embarks on a pilgrimage through towns, churches, and empty roads, carrying her name; sometimes mispronounced, always beloved-like scripture.
It is a story about the sacredness of touch, the way grief can bruise a voice, and how love never dies-it only changes address.