A couple in their mid- to late eighties limps into the Kolding Caffe. Both of them are on crutches, but she is quite a bit slower than him. As he is looking for today’s newspapers, she is looking for a table. Many tables are empty, but she has a hard time deciding where to sit. When he joins her, they sit by the door and order coffee with milk. As he is flipping through a newspaper, which he holds close to his nose, she is staring in front of herself. Having finished their coffee, they reach for their crutches. They get up from their chairs with great difficulty. She needs to go to the toilet, and he escorts her to the toilet door. As it takes her a long time to return, he starts wandering about the café and looking for other newspapers on offer. By the time she comes out, she looks completely lost. Confused, she asks a waiter where her husband has gone. He is only a couple of paces away, though. Together at last, the couple limps out. Leaning on their crutches, they are appreciably slower than before. Having watched them all the while, I shake my head. “Twenty years only,” I almost blurt out aloud. “If I’m lucky!”