I wrote this as an assignment for a creative writing course years ago or so. As CoC has been my WIP for over a decade, I would often shamelessly try to cram my characters into anything I could. The module was "Metaphor makes art," where we had to write a short piece conveying a theme or idea entirely through a metaphor. 

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She walked into the dimly lit bedroom and saw his jacket hanging on the closet door. When she had first met him, the jacket had been brand new. Now, the leather had softened and turned to a dusky gray around the middle and the elbows had begun to wrinkle and crack. Sam took it down to see if it needed any mending. She could feel how soft the leather had become, when once it had been rough beneath her fingertips. One sleeve had a slight tear near the top; the broken fabric splintered off from the jacket's wound. There had been a time when the tough hide had seemed to be impenetrable, that's why it was his favorite. She brought it closer to her face in order to examine the tear more closely. It smelled like the winter wind; sharp and comforting. Sam turned the coat over to see if there were any more spots needing to be fixed. The hem and edges of the sleeves had become tattered and frayed. She wished he would tell her when it got like this so she could fix it sooner.

Sam tested the zipper to see if it still worked well. Though it had once been bright silver, it had now acquired a tarnished look. At first, it was hard for her to coax it to zip up, but that was no change. It had always been stubborn. She continued her quest to find anymore broken bits she needed to put back together. He hated when she suggested doing anything to it, yet he never complained when he came home to find it good as new.

The button on the left cuff had come off, leaving the threads dangling and she found the right one to be rusted and on its way out. She inspected the seams, though she never had to fix them. Throughout the years, the structural binding of the jacket had always held together well. It was usually the interior and inconsequential ones that seemed to come loose. The lining of the jacket had come apart in some places and the left pocket had a hole in it. When she went to check the right pocket, she came up with a fist full of candy wrappers. She sighed and took the jacket downstairs to the table to begin her repairs