Reflections on a Corner

A Stream of Consciousness
       – Reflections on a Corner 

Dad said, the piano goes in the basement. It was the noise – the rhythmic low notes banging like enemy fire against the bulkhead. We were kids; mum explained it was to do with the war. What war, we asked. We were kids – to us, war was Khrushchev. 

But Mum paid for the piano lessons, so we practised. An hour a day. In the basement. It was unheated and dark, the sheet music brightened to white by a small snake-neck desk lamp. Mum set a timer for 60-minutes because she thought all kids lie, cheat and steal, even her own kids who wrapped up in a coat and a knitted hat to practise their piano lessons during winter months. But this isn’t about Mum. 

In the far corner of the basement where  the coal was stored, stood the faint gossamer image of a man. He wore a long tan coat with a dark collar, and his face was a pale smear. He stood there. Never moved. No matter the time of day, the light, the weather, no matter what, he was still there. My sister also saw him as she practised her 60-minutes after school. Mum never could see him. She swept the corner with a broom, thinking it was spiderwebs reflecting light. But he was still there. I pretended it was Grandpa, he’d come back from heaven to listen to me play the piano. Grandpa wouldn’t hurt me. He’d never want to scare me. Everyday I’d say, Hi Grandpa, and then goodbye Grandpa. And then I’d run up the basement stairs, because in truth, I was scared.

This morning as I walked by the Christmas tree, its lights softly twinkling in the dim light, and I caught myself saying, “Good morning, tree”. I realised that I’ve done this for years. I have no idea why I feel compelled to greet a Christmas tree (and yes, say goodnight to it also). But fact is, I do.

Written for Miz Quickly’s 17 December “Pretending” and Linda’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday “Opposite” (a piano in the basement is the opposite of where it belongs) ©Misky 2021 Shared with #apoemaday on Twitter

10 responses to “Reflections on a Corner”

  1. Spooky… the figure in the basement more than the tree. LOL. I talk to all sorts of things. I was deep in a conversation with a magpie the other morning when a couple wandered up behind me (unheard) and overtook. I told them I always talk to birds. And it wasn’t a lie. But maybe I talk less to inanimate objects? I will attempt to tally…


    1. You have to talk to magpies! Say good morning, and ask after their wife or husband, although I don’t know how to tell one gender from the other. And I suspect I talk to the Christmas tree because it reminds me so much of my boys and ornaments from days past, and it makes me happy. ☺️

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Fair Enough. There’s no better reason than that. ❤


  2. An hour a day in a cold cellar with a ghost you are frightened of; that must be the world’s worst motivator for learning how to play a piano!


    1. We were taught to sit up and shut up, and don’t talk back ……. and then the 1960s arrived. 😂 I continued played well into my 50s, but my fingers struggled after that. 🎶

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Me too. Your fingers probably have arthritis from all those hours in a cold cellar!

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Yes, probably. My sister has knobby joints whereas mine are just bloody stiff. 😏

          Liked by 1 person

  3. I really like this style and theme of writing of yours, Misky


    Liked by 1 person

    1. 💕 Thank you so much! 💕


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