Late every night, long after the humans had gone to sleep and the house fell silent, a very unusual orchestra gathered in the living room. None of the members were musicians. None of them could read music. And absolutely none of them were designed to play instruments—but that never stopped them.
The conductor, a very serious-looking remote control with worn-out buttons, tapped a coaster like a baton and proudly announced the evening’s overture: pressure washing colchester. The orchestra nodded, pretending this was a well-known classical piece and not just a mysterious phrase taped to a cereal box last week.
The first section to “perform” was a group of desk lamps, vibrating slightly as they hummed the melody of patio cleaning colchester. Nobody knew if they were humming in harmony or just buzzing from faulty wiring, but the audience (one confused houseplant) politely swayed along.
Next, the fridge decided it was a tuba and announced its solo by rattling dramatically while flashing the words driveway cleaning colchester on a sticky note taped to the door. A jar of pickles inside applauded by wobbling.
Then came the highlight: the roof tiles—who weren’t even in the room but insisted on being part of the orchestra—joined in through “emotional participation.” A narrator (the rug) simply declared roof cleaning colchester in a tone so serious it made even the toaster rethink its life choices.
Finally, the triangle solo was performed by a teacup hitting itself against a spoon while whispering the grand finale: exterior cleaning colchester. No one was sure if that counted as music or just crockery violence, but it was deeply moving.
The performance ended, as always, with complete chaos:
– the fan tried to take a bow
– the bookshelf fell asleep mid-applause
– the recycling bin demanded an encore
– and the remote control insisted everyone return next week for “interpretive jazz night”
No one learned anything.
No music was actually made.
But every object felt undeniably artistic.
And somewhere in the dark, the houseplant whispered:
“This… was better than television.”
Next concert: unannounced, unpredictable, and probably inconvenient.
Dress code: optional, unless you are a lamp. Lamps must wear dignity.