Standing in the corner of the room, the Grand Piano was the last item in the otherwise empty house. It was sad to be moving on from this place, the memories of a childhood came flooding back. Many of them revolved around that piano.
The deal on the house was too good to pass up, the buyers had offered over the market price with the stipulation that the piano stayed. Now, as he was leaving the house, the piano was all that remained. He could remember clear as day nan and pop sitting around the piano, singing badly on sunday night family dinners. His sister spent forever at that piano, learning her skills that she had now taken to the Conservatory. It also made the best hide and seek spot when he was 4, climbing in and hiding out. By the time he realised that no one was looking for him, he climbed out, feeling silly.
There was also rough times, mum and dad regularly argued about it. It always seemed to come up whenever they were short of money - dad used to always go on about how much it was worth and try to convince mum to sell it. She wouldn't budge, and would regularly say "what are we if we don't have any family heirlooms?"
Anyway, those days are gone and the cold hard practicality won out. Still...
Source: pixabay
This is a fictional story written for 
Thanks for reading,
John.