By their own choice, they attend therapy together. He moves slowly, his feet wide, toes pointed outward, waddling down the hallway. She walks ahead quickly with nearly abolished low back pain, looking behind only to remind him to, “Hurry up,” “Move faster,” or, “Stop moving so slowly.” The hare-personified, after 64 years of marriage, she slows down for no one but herself, and a gaze ahead is all he this real-life tortoise needs as his constant reminder. Undetterred by the ever-growing distance between them, he continues on.
Perhaps he has no other choice?