What is the difference between being fifteen and being twenty when one doesn't feel the passage of time? The years flowed through Katherine's mind in a solid river. She didn't see seasons and holidays as specific times, to her, they were events, floating between the present and the future, always unfixed. At fifteen she was as unsteady and beautiful as she would ever be, but there was a certain youthful exuberance beneath her words, even though her age was not apparent in her habits and speech. Alex always loved to think back to when she was young. She was so happy then. Sometimes he remembered another lazy spring day on the hill, and the pain of that memory was so sharp that he almost hated to think of it. They had been talking of Love. That was how Alex spoke of it, with the capital L burning its way through his pronunciation of the word. Katherine was always oblivious to this, even though she sometimes smiled oddly when he spoke of it. "Love is the greatest thing that can happen to anyone." Alex was not fond of poetry when it came to Love; he preferred to use material words to describe emotions. Katherine smiled at him through her long pale hair and looked at an ant striding through the grass. "Poor ant. It will never love anyone." "I don't think it will care." "No." "Then why 'poor ant'?" He resisted making quotation marks in the air as he spoke. "It doesn't know what it's missing." "Neither do you or I. We're too young yet." "No." "No?" Alex looked quietly at her. Her eyes were not on him; they were focused still on the tiny ant, forcing its way through a forest of huge grass stalks. And then she changed the subject, abruptly as was her wont. "I wish I were on a rocket ship going to the moon." In exasperation he humored her and they talked of the moon, but he wondered what she had meant. Did she have a heart under those empty blue eyes?