Short Story Of The Silk Scarf

The Silk Scarf

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. No, it was no use going to the police. They would not believe her. After all she had killed her ex-husband. What difference did it make that he had come to kill her? She was a murderer. She had been called one before when she had divorced him. She had no problem with that. It was easy to forget, though she had not. Karan had called her a murderer for ending their marriage. Manisha had smiled at him and said she had seen him murdering a lot of things when he slept with her sister.
She looked at the cursed scarf again. It had been his first gift. How glad she was that day! She would have done anything for him, had almost. But then things changed. Their marriage became like all marriages, tainted with a ghost of love and fueled with responsibility. Then came the fights, accusations, taunts. Days would pass when they would not talk to each other. Then he began paying attention to her again. He started bringing flowers and taking her out to dinner. They began going to the movies and spent more time together. Later when she found out he was doing it all to spend time with her