• What happens if the world comes crashing down? I happen, that's what. I could run in these stupid geometric shapes, holding up my arms to keep my balance on this stupid world, spinning so fast under me. As I walk on slowly, you watch on that cracked bench, head in your hands, gently shaking your head every time I fall, you walk over, and pick me up, kiss me swiftly on the cheek, and go sit on the bench again. Soon, the world spins like the universe was thrown down a drain, down a maelstrom of stressful figures. I look up at you for help, but you're gone, and I stop altogether, staring at where you were, guessing that you'd gotten tired of my pacing, waiting for life to be handed to me, like a silver platter, prawns and cocktails all my life. And I look at that last haven, my eyes blurring until it hurts to hold my stupid tears from rolling over my vision. And really, when I left my place, to wait, for you, that's when the world stopped spinning and plummeted, finally reaching the dead drop of that stupid drain, and that stupid bench cracks under me from the weight of the world.