My mothers walk, it is that of a small quick step followed by another, and another, and another. Her walk is with purpose, always moving onto the next job. My walk, the lazy walk, the conflicted walk the not-sure-where-to-go walk. But a walk none the less. My sisters walk, she patiently walks through a crowd and stops for the bigger and elder ones. her walk is that of a little girls walk, even though, her legs are the size of giant clubs but steps the size of baby steps. My brothers steps interestingly, the powerhouse of all the walks in this family. his steps are close together but quick. afterall he is the smallest. he leans forward but his head is done. Maybe it occurs to him that he walks blind, but probably not. My step fathers wak. long strides, very long strides he walks with power, his walk is the power. every step coming down lick the kick of a bass drum at a metal concert. his walk is the walk of the family