In Hindsight he wished he hadn’t bought it.
He only went into the shop to buy a present for his wife. The saleswoman had looked like such a nice lady, but she had pounced on him like a tiger at a tea party as if he was covered in whipped cream.
He emerged with a piano stool made of fine mahogany and richly upholstered in red velvet brocade. Carrying it down the narrow cobblestoned streets was tricky. He almost fell twice.
It was a bargain apparently. Just twenty pounds and it also came with a large pile of piano music from Haydn through Beethoven to Shostakovich. He realised he’d been taken in by the gimmick. How was he going to explain it to his wife?
They didn’t even own a piano.
Copyright: Kristian Fogarty 03/February/2019