Mariette listened to the rain pouring softly on the tin roof, and lifted her head a little toward the ceiling. She glanced at the clock and heard something shuffling.

A scarf was hanging evenly on the hall tree right across from her. It is long, and broad. The color is faded blue silk, with pink and yellow flowers. It was as if the scarf was beckoning her. She got it as a gift a few years ago and did not particularly like the color; however, she accepted it graciously.  Mariette has been wearing it to hide and old wound on her neck. Since then the scarf had been use as a headband, shawl, and a cover for a bureau.

“Maybe I should give it away,” Mariette thought as she continue to enjoy the rain. She went back to watching her favorite movie, “The Life and Times of Giblet Gravy,” thinking how mystifying the human mind is when it comes to food. When she look across the hallway at the clock, the scarf had moved to the floor.

Mariette eyes flashed. “What in the world, did a wind come through and blow that scarf on the floor, or did I assume it was hanging on the hall tree?” Mariette thought to herself. She did not know, because the movie about giblet gravy was in fact very amusing. She went back to watching the movie, as the rain was pouring constantly.

Mariette stop to answer her phone and she glared. The scarf was at her feet. She disregarded it. There was no one on the other end of the phone. The rain continued to pour. The scarf had moved to her leg. She jumped up on the sofa and closed her legs under her on the sofa. This is creepy; then, she jumped off the sofa over the ghastly scarf, and headed for the stairs. It felt like her heart was in her mouth. The scarf swooped.

The scarf wrapped itself around Mariette’s waist and tried to squeeze the life out of her. It’s frightening hold scared her almost into a heart attack. Mariette fainted. It slowly turned her loose from its clinch and it glided itself back down the stairs. The scarf entered the now vacant living area and leaped upon the sofa, and at long last, the scarf is stress-free or so he thought.

“Do you think you can use me as a headband, a shawl, and a cover for your bureau without any respect at all?” The scarf thought to itself. “Not in this lifetime sweetie.”

Mariette was out for at least an hour. She lifted herself off the floor and she felt like a ton of bricks hit her. Mariette quietly walked down the stairs and saw the scarf lying on the sofa, with no worries. She ran over and grabbed the scarf, twisted it in knots and threw it in the fireplace. She could hear it moaning and groaning, begging her to take it out of the fire. Mariette insisted, “I am queen of this castle!” It was tranquil again. She whirled around in delight.


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