• The Write Connection

A Deception


Screech! My car came to a halt in front of a traffic light. Waiting for the green light, I observed my surroundings as I rested one arm on the car door while hanging on to the steering wheel lightly. I was on my way to my friend’s University to visit her. Sarah, my best friend, specialised in antiques. As a result, I had prepared a few of my antiques for her to appraise. 


All of a sudden, a nearby antique shop caught my attention. The bold crimson words haphazardly painted against a stark white background announced, “Clearance sale! Limited time offers now!” Immediately, my eyes lit up excitedly. Delighted, I thought to myself, what a golden opportunity! I should get an antique as a gift for Sarah! With my heart pumping in excitement, I parked my Volvo along the road. Climbing out of the car, I sauntered towards the shop. 


As I stepped into the dusty old antique shop, the atmosphere was as dark as an attic. Cobwebs hung at all corners of the small shop and it appeared to be as old as time itself. The dusty air tickled my nose and an explosive sneeze threatened to erupt any moment. Wrinkling my nose and sniffing noisily, I was interrupted by a sudden husky voice. “Hello, young lady, how may I help you?” Gazing around, a burly man with a sharp nose and clad in a tank top and bermuda shorts emerged from the dim end of the shop. Telling him that I was looking for interesting antiques as a gift for my friend, I continued glancing around. At once, the shop owner suggested taking a look at a unique cup he had in stock. Holding a delicate cup in his hand, he explained with theatrical gestures that the porcelain antique was from the Ming Dynasty. Like a sly fox, the shop owner whispered that there was only one of the cups left in the world! I was extremely intrigued by the cup’s intricate floral designs that I decided to buy the cup, although it cost an arm and a leg. 


After purchasing the antique, I continued my way to my friend’s University. Upon reaching there, I carefully bought all my precious antiques to Sarah’s room. Sarah was delighted with her gift and she appraised it with care. As Sarah was appraising the delicate porcelain cup I had passed to her earlier, I lounged back against the wall, waiting to hear her marvel at how impressive and precious the cup was. However, she spent a considerable longer amount of time examining and scrutinizing the cup in comparison to all the other antiques I had brought over. It was then that I suspected something was amiss. Her look of concentration soon contorted into a frown and she beckoned me over. “This is most definitely not an antique”, she muttered. With a slightly apologetic gaze, she returned the cup to me and explained her conclusion. Flooded with shock, my mouth hung agape, and I shook my head in disbelief. 


Fuming with rage, I knew that I could not go back to the shop as it would already be closed. 


My face was a deep shade of red. How could I have been so gullible? From then on, I vowed to never believe in such deceitful schemes again.​