The Unhappy Moth

She chose a red scarf. The most red of them all. Of a dark red, a sweet and thick red color, just as wine. She carved from the red scarf from the middle to the size of a Martini glass. Then she carved one more glass, and she kept carving till she fell asleep. Yesterday she saw her Beloved Moth flirting with a Younger Moth, carving together from a sweater while she was getting busy, carving in the shelves. The Unhappy Moth drank lots of wine woolen wine, last night. She drank lots, too much for a Moth. The Unhappy Moth got drunk and fell asleep on the red scarf, unhidden with a heart filled with peace. She was not afraid no more. Now she could be seen easily, laying on the scarf and easily crushed. The Unhappy Moth was not afraid of death no more, at least, now she knew how wonderful the red scarfs are and that they taste like red wine.