Inspired by the Three Sentence Ficathon Prompt: Howl's Moving Castle, Sophie Hatter, when the hats talk back.


"You'll be quite a conversation starter," Sophie told the hat as she sewed on yet another sequin. It was as kind a thing as could be said about the completely over-ornamented cap of midnight blue velvet, on which dragons of golden thread fought for space with stars and miscellaneous-but-presumably-mystical symbols. The customer's design was her command when it came to commissioned pieces.

"I dare say I already am," the hat said.

The needle slipped from Sophie's fingers. She blinked. To talk to hats was one thing; quite another for them to answer. Yet the hat had spoken. There was no one else in the workshop and the silky voice was exactly the kind this hat would have. Which meant that, in addition to hearing hats, she was also establishing a classification for their diction.

The customer was surely a wizard, so perhaps the garish hat was enchanted. Maybe that was the reason for all the cluttered detail, but she couldn't quite believe that such offences against good taste served any rational purpose. Magical hats were known to make the wearer invisible, and while someone wearing this would have good reason to want to be unseen, it surely had the opposite effect. No, Sophie had the sinking feeling that this conversation was on her, that in her loneliness she had indeed gone mad as a hatter.

She sighed and picked up the needle again. This was what came from being the eldest of three. "Please save it for someone else."

The hat was silent while she finished her work.

The End