The four-step woman and her man

I was queuing for my porridge and feeling a little restless. I hardly come to the food centre these days, so I simply looked around, taking in the weekend morning buzz.

Then I saw the four-step woman. She was walking along the centre aisle, holding on to a walking stick to help her move along. She is probably in her late seventies or early eighties, very small, but seemingly very determined.

In front of her was an equally old man. Also small, a little less feeble, but nonetheless holding on to an umbrella as a walking stick as well. He was holding her hand, walking in front of her, leading her as they walk along the aisle in the bustling marketplace.

I counted. She takes exactly four steps, and stops to rest for a while, and then four steps again, and rests. Her husband simply holds her hand, leading the way, moving along with the same rythmic motion, probably used to the four-step routine by now.

And so I suppose that's what love is. Holding on, keeping watch, no matter how long, how slow and how old.