The light changed. They walked across the street, but it wasn't walking. It was weaving, and slapping shoulders, pushing, laughing. It was a moment in time for them that stretched out with no awareness of ending ever. She sat at the light, in the car bubble, watching. Her moment was remembering her version of their moment, and that it is not endless. Not knowing the end of the time doesn't change the timeless experience. She looked at her moment now, seeing that it, too, seemed without end. But then knowing the moment ends, her later self will look back over her shoulder, and see her moment that never seemed to own an end. And so it goes around, for each, without end.