Papa was an accordion. But his bellows were all empty. Nothing went in and nothing came out.

“First the colours.Then the humans.That’s usually how I see things.Or at least, …”

“No matter how many times she was told that she was loved, there was no recognit…”

“I told her I loved the howling sound of her harmonica. That seemed to be the li…”

“An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.”