The sidewalk was cracked in many places, roots poking through from trees cut down long ago, they've been like this for as long as I can remember. As a little girl I used to sit on the porch steps, wishing there were trees for the shade and a break from the sun. They said the trees had to go, they were diseased, dying, a danger to the homes and people there if they were to split and fall. I wasn't there when they cut them down, I only bore witness to the nakedness the street possessed after the fact. I'd ride my big wheel, red and blue, with the streamers flapping in the wind, the black smooth wheels crunching up and down the barren sidewalk. A kid could pedal with all their might and those wheels would just spin and spin and you'd get nowhere.