My hands were now warm, so I look around the snow-covered grounds deciding where I should go next.
Then, amidst the snow, I noticed a set of footsteps.
I knew immediately where I was going.
It was snowing lightly. Based on the depth of the imprint in the ground, it appeared as though this step was made hours ago – now covered by many centimeters of snow. The snow was beginning to hide the history of this person – I wanted to make sure the prints remained.
So I continued.
I danced with them, placing my left foot where they once placed theirs. The right followed – it was the right thing to do after all.
In my walk, I learned a few things about this person.
They had a small frame.
They definitely had small feet.
I’m a fairly tall individual, with fairly large feet. I had a very difficult time consistently shadowing this person’s path because it was awkwardly narrow.
Despite the glaringly obvious disparity between how they walk, and how I walk, I continued to follow in their footsteps.
It seemed this person walked without a worry in the world.
Their footsteps were slow. I made this inference as I noticed steps further down the path were far more visible. They took a long period of time to take that many steps. Even if it wasn’t, I like to think this person was walking at a slower pace.
I felt, in that instant, I understood this person a little bit more. I decided to stop mimicking their footsteps and, instead, began to mimic their state of mind – well the one I perceived.
I took it slow, took a deep breath, and let the cold wintry air enter and exit my body.
I let out a hot stream of air that left a visible cloud of vapour.
I continued, now much slower.
I left my own footprints, thinking they might be followed by someone else.
I was feeling somewhat lonely that day.
It felt nice walking with someone, even if that person wasn’t there.