“You fool, beat, beat,” the brain said to the heart with its weak pulse.

“It hurts,” the heart responded, its voice hollow and aching. “I may be broken.”

“Broken things can still work, now beat, or we will risk death!” The brain shouted.

“Death may be kind to hold us…”

“Oh, Heart, stop your dramatics! You do this all the time! The feeling will pass, now beat!” The brain begged.

“Knowing this will pass doesn’t make the pain any less intense.”

The heart stopped beating.