Kelsey has always loved the number ten. It was her favorite number for most of her life. It never failed her. In fact, it had become a running theme for as long as she can remember. She seemed to see the number all the time and in almost everything; she saw it in the moon, fruit hanging from the trees in her backyard, French fries with ketchup, or veggies dipped in ranch dressing. Every day was a 'ten out of ten' kind of day; until the day everything shattered, it was no longer stainless, pure. She feared she would never be whole again, doomed to be left fragmented, like pieces which once fit so perfectly together.