>> You play a few short things, humming along with the cords. Something with a fluctuating tempo, quick harsh snaps of strings; something more steady, calmer, a confident and comforting tone; then something soft comes from that. You cut the song short and stand up, fist clenched around the neck of the instrument. Fins pinned back as age old thoughts perk back up and chew on your pumper. Your eyes drop down to the instrument when you feel wood crack and splinter around your fist. Ah, it broke. You place it back where you found it and leave the room. No more of that.














