The Piano

And the wind said, "remember how we used to play?"

Then the wind took her hand and said, "come, come with me."

But she refused.

Mama, I have been thinking.

Hold on.

We're stopping here.

Wait, stop.

Look how pale. Like angels.

Old dry balls is getting touchy.

If you wish to join the bones of my ancestors...

...that's the way to the burial caves.

I've told you the story of your father many, many times.

I didn't need to speak.

I could lay thoughts out in his mind like they were a sheet.

He became frightened...

...and stopped listening.

No, you must calm down and play outside.

He's very shy and a beginner.

You need a wife.

It's no good having it sulk between your legs forever.

It's all right.

Be quiet!

- Balls were wasted on you. - And you would know.