Today I walked ten metres behind a man whose footsteps echoed so loudly I winced. They rapped harshly against the concrete floor, sound bouncing off of the windows of the barber’s shop as we passed.

They were flat soles, unassuming shoes. To make a noise like that with such gentle shoes! He must be furious. I’m a fast walker (one eye on my book, one on passers-by, and not a single collision) but I slowed my pace. To catch up with someone so full of kinetic rage seemed a poor life decision.

As I slowed, a woman overtook me, nose buried in her flip-mirror, adjusting her blush.

Her footsteps were perfectly in synch with the man in front of me. Each stride matched. Each impact shared.

Her six-inch heels hammered into the ground.

And the student was enlightened.