9th week’s drabble.
The light cloth was wrapped around his neck protecting him from the bitter cold of the winter wind. The softness of the cotton left him free to move without hindrance and the carmine color reminded him of the good Italian wine that he could soon drink. He squeezed an edge of the accessory with emotion, bringing it to his nose and smelling the gentle scent of home with almost childlike joy. His sister had given him that scarf before he moved, to always remember the smell and sweetness of his homeland. And he never failed to wear it, especially when he was about to return.