She wanted to walk in a quiet way, but he wanted to walk in a fast way.

And so they went their different ways, until one day they came to an avenue of trees which was as long as the walking was gentle within it.

“Now we can walk together,” she said.

But – “The trees are judging me,” he replied, shaking his head, although or because of everything that was or was not, the little he could change it, the fact that nothing would be remembered or could ever be explained by him: “The trees are judging me.”