There was a boy who broke mirrors whose mother was crying all the time. Dad was out being something of a man, or at home being something less than a man. Their home was on a hill that was in the shadow of a castle on a hill. The boy had only sneers to keep himself company and he wore a patch over one eye because it cut down on the noise.
His sister had a giant tooth that kept everyone up at night. There was nothing she wouldn't naw on. What she liked most was an old leg bone their father left in a corner. Supposedly he had won it, took it, found it when he was young and strong. The boy with the sneer could only shoot anger at her.
They hated. So of course they hated each other. They used to orbit each other with their hate, simultaneously being held at arm’s length but within sight. Father couldn't see it and Mother couldn't care. And for all its pain, at least it kept the two in place, stopped them from flying apart.
One day there was a comet in the sky. In the middle of hating each other they looked up and craved it. More than that, they craved that the other wouldn't get it. It was at that moment that gravity slipped and they were at each other's throats.
When Mother stopped crying, Father started. And when Father stopped, Mother started. In the shadow of the castle nothing much moves but the waves of sobbing, and the rain which waits to carry them all away.
Would anything have been different if they hadn't given the boy a hammer?