Sitting in the Metro 1 today on my way to work from a meeting I had in the 8th.
Stop at Metro Argentine and in walks a couple.
Her walk, a tad slow due to her slightly curving back.
Him, tall, thin and following not far behind.
She sits down first.
Him a close second.
Typical French way of treating a lady.
Her hair, coloured, with thin white roots growing out.
His hair, almost transparent, combed back.
Her beige loafers carefully cared for.
His shirt ironed, perfectly.
Typical French way of always being impeccably put together.
No matter the age.
I noticed his gold ‘alliance’ which showed years of use and scratches.
Her wrinkled ring finger adorned with a thinner gold band.
Typical French wedding bands.
However, a shiny off white pearl sat cushioned in hers.
I couldn’t stop stealing glances at them and trying to hide the smile that wanted to come.
Not a word was spoken between them but yet, they were having a conversation of movements.
What has this couple gone through in their life? Have they always lived in Paris?
How many kids to they have? What was their first kiss like? Did they meet up later in life?
The Metro stops at Pont de Neuilly and she gets up first.
She steps off confidently.
He follows, head up, looking at her, proud.
That’s his lady.
Still not a word spoken between them, she slows down, he walks to be beside her.
He puts his hand beside hers as shes reaching to slip hers into his and off they go, slowly, to some unknown destination.
This is what i’m waiting for and I won’t settle for anything less.
A perfect example of true love.