He wore a coat taken from the donation bin. He had reached in with a hanger he'd bent into a hook and pulled it out like a trout.

He had given a happy shout when he saw his catch; it was the same coat he'd seen in an armload of a woman who had walked by him to stuff into the bin.

The grey wool was soft, the zip-out liner of down, and it had a hood he could pull over his head. In winter it kept him very warm. Inside the mall in summer it kept him warm too.