My ex told me that she had always found me irritating. Tall (6'5"), irritating and charming at first, then I had become tall, irritating and irritating, and she was my ex before I knew it. Women say things like that, and men do not heed them. Well, they should. She was right. Today I keep telling that to myself, and to the other three selves who follow me a few steps behind. Let me introduce to you Dwarf Myself, 4'3", Small Myself, 2'10", and Tiny Myself, 1'2". I think that Tiny is an idiot, but that's prejudice. He tries to imitate me in everything, like his siblings, and because of his size he's always making a fool of himself, which is to say myself. I tell him so, and he doesn't care, because, just like me, he can placidly stand a comfortable lot of verbal abuse from people who are stronger than he is. You're a wimp, she used to say, only a large one. What we do know, my three selves and I, is how to quibble. We are condemned to live together in a space of approximately 180 square feet. Once I got over the surprise, I collectively tried to leave, but the pain becomes intolerable when one of us moves too far from the three others. I am torn, literally speaking. Therefore I cohabit. I bought a small bed and two cradles for them, and we keep getting on each other's nerves although we basically agree on everything. This morning, for instance, I accidentally locked up Tiny Myself in the house. He had been busy looking for