We were holding hands walking right down the middle of Hollywood Boulevard.
The holding of our hands started to have it's own heart.
We looked down at where our wrists met, and there it was, beating, red and growing warm.
Then you stopped to tie your shoe, and I had to hold the heart all by myself.
It slid out of my hand like a fish, then turned into a kickball and started bouncing down the Boulevard.
I ran after it, but each bounce got higher and higher.
Pretty soon, I was at the rim of the Grand Canyon, and my father was being chased by a mountain lion.
I started to run after him, but a band of wild horses circled my mother.
She was sitting on a foldable camping chair, shaking.
The horses were kicking and biting and closing in on her.
I had now had a rope.
I tried to lasso them, but my teeth began falling out.
I kept lassoing them, and collected my bloody teeth with the other hand,which turned into a sieve.
Every time I yelled to her, I threw up bloody gravel,which used to be my teeth, and my sieve hand could only catch one or two pieces.
I worried that by the time I got to the dentist, I'd have nothing to give him.