She wondered about the harper in the song, and what he had thought when he was building the harp of a dead woman’s bones. He was probably the only person in the world who would understand what she was doing. Assuming he even existed in the first place. And if he did, what kind of life do you lead where you find yourself building a harp out of corpses? For that matter, what kind of life do you lead where you find yourself building a dog out of bones?
