Near my old apartment, there lived a much-older couple who used to shuffle along the sidewalk, backs bent with. They would walk their little dog, one of those annoying little anklebiters that seniors enjoy having around. The most charming aspect of it was the old man always wore Vans sneakers, the kind worn by the post-grunge, skater crowd. I always wondered what their lives had been like, growing old together like that. In such a bad-ass working class neighbourhood like St-Henri, no less. Even in their 80s, there they were, taking walks together, every day, obviously comfortable with each other. Never saw them speak to each other, but words are probably unnecessary at that point.
At some point this past summer, K & I didn’t see them anymore. I doubt that, at that point, the one would probably not be able to live without the other.