Strangers In The Night

 If you are of a mind to do so, please say a little prayer for London and Anna. I am worried about them, or at least for them. 

I understand they're not exactly Romeo and Juliet. Or even Harry and Meghan for that matter. And yet, somehow, these two star-crossed lovers live on in my heart even though I fear that some tragedy may have befallen them. 

Full disclosure: I have no real idea who London or Anna are. They are names that came to me on a fence. Specifically, they were spray painted in black across the fence behind a gas station that I run past frequently. I first became aware of their undying commitment about three years ago when I first noticed the foot-high letters that spelled out "London + Anna Forever." Once or twice a week, I run past this message of devotion, and each time I wonder how that particular relationship is going. 

I have done my share of scribbling and scrawling my dreams of a happy ending on notebooks, trees and a great many other inanimate objects. Time has had its way with most all of them. Mostly I look back on those messages with fondness and only a twinge of sadness. There was a time when I meant every single one of those messages to the universe. I don't regret a single one. They expressed my feelings in a moment. 

But what about years? I assume it was London who made his bold statement late one night, after the gas station was closed. I don't imagine that Anna was nearby, but the next day when she took a stroll up the street to the laundromat or the donut shop, she saw it. Was she entranced? Was she put off? Did she race to London's house, knock on the door and fall into his arms? What did Anna's parents make of all this? 

Difficult to say, since I don't know any of these people personally. Only by reputation. I want to believe that it was the borderline delinquent act of confidence that the two of them needed to make that last word work: Forever. 

On Sunday when I ran past, maintenance workers had finished painting over the entire fence. No doubt the gas station's ownership had decided to spruce the place up. Nothing like a fresh coat of industrial brown to say "this is a place of business, not a singles column in the local newspaper." 

Or maybe it was London, in a fit of grief and community spirit who decided to cover up that testament to his girl. The one that got away. Or maybe London and Anna have moved away. Together. Forever.