The aunty shuffles along with the aid of a walking stick, seemingly in her own world. The uncle, ever beside her, holding her hand tightly, attentively guiding her along. He beams with each step that they take together. He makes being able to walk next to his wife appear to be like the greatest privilege in the world. As they amble along, I can almost imagine them on their wedding day- for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live on earth.
This is the picture of romance.
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