The Musical Lady

The Musical Lady I knew of a pavement café where tables and chairs were painted in different colours, this to lend ambience in an otherwise dreary street. A young lady, a student at the music conservatorium, came here for lunch and always insisted on sitting on the same chair, a rosa one; she was pretty in stern way, long black dress, flat shoes, plain long hair and big glasses, waiters were happy to oblige her. This caused jalousie amongst other chairs that wanted her to sit on them too. In the night they ganged up on the rosa one, upended it and scratched badly. The owner thought it was the work of vandals, put the damage chair in the store room, but when the musical lady came she insisted to sit on her chair damaged or not. Other seats felt bad realizing it was not the rosa’s fault but the idiosyncrasy of the artist, so in the night the spruced up the rosa till it looked as new. But now the pianist didn’t want it, not the same as before, she said and sat on a yellow chair. Feeling a miffed the gleaming new looking seat said to itself: “No big shake she had a narrow, cold bum anyway.”