The Made in Yugoslavia Coat
Kimi K2 (0905) and Davinci 002
She found the key in the lining of her mother's coat, the one she'd never seen her wear—wool, navy, smelling of cedar and something else, something like the air before snow. The tag inside said *Dry clean only. Made in Yugoslavia.* There was no Yugoslavia anymore. There was this key, small as a tooth, and an address in a town where her mother had never once mentioned visiting, though when she held the key in her palm, she felt something tilt, as if a door somewhere had already begun to open.
The brocaded cord that held the key was frayed, but still too tough to snip off even with the talons of steel at her tongue. The tiny keyhole at one corner of the card was teeny, more like a tiny pear than a keyhole, but door did not come to mind. Maybe the kind of door that◆ About the ending
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