I Didn’t Claim the Scarf I Knew Was Mine

The scarf was folded neatly on the counter,

and she recognised it immediately.

Holly had realised it was missing a few days earlier.

She searched at home first.

Drawers.

Wardrobes.

Behind doors.

Then she retraced her steps.

Work.

The café.

The train.

At the station, there was a small lost property desk.

A tray with a few items.

Gloves.

An umbrella.

A worn book.

And the scarf.

Dark grey.

Soft fabric.

A small pull in the thread near one corner.

Holly stepped closer.

The attendant asked if she had lost something.

There was a pause.

Long enough to answer.

Holly looked at the scarf again.

Then said she was just checking.

She stepped back.

Left the desk.

Walked out of the station.

She told herself it might not be hers.

That similar scarves exist.

Which was partly true.

But she also knew it probably was.

Days later, she bought another.

Similar colour.

Newer.

Easier to wear.

Still, sometimes when she passes the station, she remembers the tray.

And the small moment where she chose not to reach for something that had once been hers.

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Confessions podcast | short human stories | reflective storytelling | Simple Stories Project