June 17

How long does Love, with a capital L, last?

On one of the recent practice hikes up Pleasant Mountain, I overheard part of a conversation between three college-aged women who were climbing up as I was descending. The three women were physically disparate. The first was a tall blonde with a scalloped and scooped neckline that showed off her bosom in the style of young women today. The second was dark, petite, wearing a dark brown pork pie hat, and climbing with a 6 foot walking stick. The third woman wore a long unbecoming white T shirt with some orange lettering. She had long light brown hair and was the one talking.

To the leader I said, "Good morning" and stood aside to let them go by.

As they passed, I heard the last woman say, "How long does Love, with a capital L, last?"

And then they were gone. There was only a quarter mile left for me in the descent, and I thought about this question. Who was she talking to? What did they answer? Who was she talking about? What would be my answer to a question like that?

So at the car, there was just one other vehicle, a silver SUV, in the lot. It must belong to them, right? I got a napkin out of my glove compartment, a pen out of the cup holder, and wrote my answer. I folded the napkin, and lifted the windshield wiper of the SUV to secure the note. Then I drove off. Can you imagine what they might have thought on arriving back at their car and discovering the napkin note?

What would your answer be?