Their hands locked tightly.

I started my daily walk this morning, deciding to buy some peach from the Valumart. On the road leading to the middle school, a grandpa and his middle-school grandson, pulling a rolling backpack, were at the other side of the road. The grandpa tightly held his grandson’s hand as if the boy who, although as tall as the grandpa, was still a little boy. I was curious that whether the locked hands would be let go. When the school was near, the grandpa spared his left hand to clean his nose while his right hand’s holding the umbrella. The grandson’s right hand was down, but seconds later, he raised his hand in the air, waiting. His grandpa’s hand soon grab the grandson’s, and they held firmly again. I walked behind them for about one mile and didn’t see them talking. However, I saw them the gesture of love and the minds that are in sync. 

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