Your father was a fine musician.
Out of all the instruments which his delicate hands could play, the heart strings were his favorite.
He plucked them one by one, carefully listening to each note as they reverberated in their cage. Then once knowing the key, played a melancholy tune until the strings became hard and his fingers bled.
He had no use for broken instruments, and abandoned them for some different chords. But your father never thought about the lovely sounds they could make when they crushed his wind pipe.
As you can see here, broken instruments have their purpose.
Chris Walker about 7 years ago