Alfred’s back hunched, his knees knocked, and his very bones ached. His eyes were clouded, hearing non-existent, and senses addled. He remembered his youth like it was yesterday. Yesterday was another story. However, his mind was still sharp, more or less, and to keep it in trim he would go on a daily walk.
He slowly made his way down the old pathway by the river, avoiding snaring branches and haphazardly left dog’s dirt. It was invigorating, the closest to a workout his aching bones could take, and he felt happy. He was in nature, of a sort, just like the old days, back when his friends were still there, so long ago.
Occasionally some young person, nearly everybody was young to him these days, would pass by on some unfathomable errand. They often used the river way as a short cut and would be in a hurry, running occasionally.
Alfred thought about stopping them sometimes. Of trying to tell them to slow down. To appreciate their knees while they still had them. To live more in the moment and not treat time like something to be rushed through.
But he knew they wouldn’t listen. They were to young to understand. By the time they were old enough to get it they wouldn’t be able to appreciate it. Age is a terrible price for wisdom Alfred would think And you never get the chance to get your money back.
Still, while life runs by, Alfred walks on. With aching bones, scratching lungs and a fluttering heart. Every day there’s a new ache and getting out’s just that little bit harder. But it’s worth it, even for a moment, absolutely worth it.