talk the walk

the old man was holding her tiny hand as gentle as he could. the grip was a dialogue in itself, but words had to fill in the gaps of silence. he used his giant fingers to bit his lower lip and pointed ahead. the little girl was watching his hand and the cartoon words leaving his mouth towards the designated direction.

that's the road. the one laying in front of you. the one you have to walk on. the one you have to take. take on. take back. take out. your feet are walking past the dust and sand and seem to go somewhere, but it's your mind that makes the feet stop. and go. once the mind's made up, the feet make way.

what about the rules? the little girl asked in a fast blink of an eye.

rules are for rulers. they merely set the line for you to walk a straight one. but it's up to you and down to earth whether you obey, replied the old man

i like rulers. they make drawing easy. they should make walking easy too, right?

as log as it's the straight line, they do. but what if you're running in circles? what then?

then it should go smooth. circles make me feel at ease. there's nothing hidden in a circle.

you're right. but once in a while you have to step out of the circle.

i like the way you talk. you make things seem easy even if what you're saying is hard. she smiled her childish sun rayed smile.

he pat her blonde head with kind understanding.

i like the way you walk. you make running seem easy even if where you're going is far.