
In the Light of a Lamp
I’ll say right upfront that she didn’t kill herself.
Mum told the removal men where to place the piano; in the dining room against the south-facing wall, but when Dad came home he glared at the piano and walked past it like it was a naughty puppy who’d peed on the carpet. By week’s end, Dad demanded the piano be condemned to the basement because my sister’s practising the “Indian Drum Song” for 30-minutes twice daily was driving him insane.
She said she’d rather kill herself than sit down there in cold and dark practising. But she never did.
Written for Ink in Third “100 words Wednesday” (photo prompt above) 100 words sans title. Prose ©Misky 2006-2024.
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