My cane bumps over the cracks in the sidewalk as I walk down the street. It's hard to tell where I am and I suddenly feel very self conscious; I know I'm walking too slowly and people are probably staring at me. I'm still not used to it. I don't think I'll ever get used to it. My walking stick catches in what I think must be some sort of pothole, causing me to stumble and fling my arms out to catch myself, though my hands never hit the concrete. "You good?" I don't recognise the voice. It's not very deep though it is distinctly male, and instantly I want him to speak again.