Flora loved to play the piano. At any and every party she’d be first on the piano, thumping away at all the old tunes; not old, old tunes like When Johnny Comes Marching Home and On Top of Old Smokey, but popular oldies like Kum Ba Yah My Lord and We All Live in A Yellow Submarine. In theory they were songs everyone could join in singing – even young people. Flora loved to be the life of the party, except…
Flora’s talent was all in her mind. She couldn’t play the piano for nuts. Honest to goodness, a one armed chimpanzee with a paper bag on his hand would be better.
As soon as she started to play, everyone (or those without an ounce of civility) would exclaim, “Oh for shit’s sake! Not again!” But Flora wouldn’t hear. She’d be off on a second verse of the Theme from Doctor Zhivago. She knew how to ruin a good party.
So it was more than a little confusing when Flora had a stroke. People wished to express their sympathy, but the mere thought of Flora and her paralysed arms somehow filled them with a horrid delight.