Pinned away from the wall, black strips of decayed material are loosely knitted together, forming a long narrow tapestry with gaping holes. Worn out, the fabric hangs by mere threads and tiny bits of material form a small pile in a dustpan on the floor.
Originally, this was a favorite sweater of mine, one I wore beyond its useful life. I remember buying the pullover in an upscale boutique but later upon looking at the tag, I discovered it was actually from J. Jill. Slightly surprised that I had conflated multiple experiences, I realize that my memory, like this material, is also subject to erosion over time.