When I’m following you down the street, sometimes I forget myself and I almost step on one of those cracks in the sidewalk that come out of nowhere. Most of the time, I feel them coming and I can catch myself in mid-step. But there have been instances when if it weren’t for my unusually large oblong-shaped dome, I would surely have fallen and slipped through the cracks. I would have fallen straight down to the center of the earth where I’d be dashed to bits and pieces on a bed of jagged rocks and broken hearts. After taking a fall like that, no one would ever be able to recognize me again, a bloody mess of busted ventricles limply spelling out parts of your name with each dying twitch. And I suppose it would be just as well. Walking around with my heart tied to a string all the time just isn’t doing it for me anymore.