My Jumper

My jumper is big and dense and made with green wool plus copious amounts of love. In the dead of the winter, when I’m tapping away on my computer late into a Saturday night, my jumper holds me close like a zealous lover. Together we keep each other warm and fight off the icy fingers of an encroaching dawn. His arms are thick and wide; I feel safe and protected as he nestles against my chest.

The sky lightens and a small, white sun creeps up over the buildings, throwing a beam of winter warmth through the glass and onto my desk. It moves onto my cheek. Suddenly it all gets too much and I pull my jumper off – quickly, urgently – and dump his vast green mass onto the floor beside me.