We We're Young...

I love the pockets in big coats, I always feel they tell a story, hold the secrets of a child trying to keep their father from seeing they had taken a biscuit before dinner, or that they had found a worm in the garden and were now keeping it as a pet. Or the secrets of an adult, slipping off their wedding ring before they met another. Or perhaps the deep pocket was holding a small box, inside a quivering hand hoping she would say yes.