Short Story

Unique

Paris, March 14th, 1921
The collector relit his cigar, picked up the magnifying glass and studied the triangular
1874 Cape of Good Hope.
‘I did warn you there were two,’ said the dealer, ‘so yours is not unique.’
‘How much?’
‘Ten thousand francs.’
The collector wrote out a cheque, before taking a puff on his cigar, but it was no longer alight. He picked up a match, struck it, and set light to the stamp.
The dealer stared in disbelief as the stamp went up in smoke.
The collector smiled. ‘You were wrong, my friend,’ he said, ‘mine is unique.’

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