“Oh, as long as it doesn’t have cracks, it’s fine. I’ll take it. In fact, I’m planning on gifting it to someone,” says the buyer of one of my household goods, making sure that the article he’s purchasing isn’t a piece of lemon.
“No cracks, at all,” I assure him. “It’s also very clean.”
My old faux Tiffany lamp and I are parting company after many years of a joyful, illuminating relationship.
I’m sad to bid it farewell. It’s been a loyal companion, suffusing my living room with warm, mellow lighting.
But I’d have been sadder if I had to stow it away in a cold storage unit and let it languish in an unfriendly, windowless, boxy container, where not even a ray of sunlight would visit it. It’s better off in a new home, where its new owner will see it every day.