It was brilliant and dull; it was sensation and memory; it was a deluge of colors and an outpouring of soul. It was a vest. Simple and complex. The vest was made of a material that appeared to be something similar to a soft frilly blanket with feathers and tendrils of soft cotton. The vest came up to a V-neck opening that was rimmed with crinkly wax paper, that you'd find at the bottom of a box of fresh brownies. The texture was that of a slime mold, left out in the rain and cold for a winter in the pacific northwest. The shoulders of the vest came to a ridge with material that looked like tinfoil, but inexplicably felt like cinnamon; like a box of snickerdoodles fresh out of an oven, being devoured by effusive friends and family. The vest represented the life story of this being. This vest represented the memories, textures, and sensations that guided this being to this moment, recalling the punctuations in this being's life up till this moment. Beautiful and complete in its retelling of a mortal life.