I saw a white limping man

He looked a little into his 60s, mid-built, a little hunched, with a black bag slung on his right shoulder, and two bags of heavy grocery bags. It was that sheltered pathway to Somerset MRT, I was on my way home and walking behind this poor soul who looked like he was forcing his legs to move.

I looked down. Because I will not be caught staring at this poor man like he's some awkward outsider. I'll just look down and keep on walking but I will not overtake him. And somehow deep inside I wished he would just disappear. Not that I had a grudge against him. But I was hoping he was just a figment of my imagination. 

I respect this man. He reminded me of my grandfather. Even though he didn't know, I felt like I just couldn't overtake him like that. For me, that would mean I don't care so much for him and have given up on him. I wanted to give him some invisible support and so, continued walking behind him until we parted ways at the MRT gate. 

Song of the day:

The Beatles - Hello, Goodbye