Parting fractions

When my sister was a young teen, she and her friend would sit on our porch til late at night in the summertime. Sara's store closed at 10:00 p.m., and she turned off the outside light at that time. Sometimes Dorothy and Sandy would sit out on the darkened porch for a while after that. Then it was time for Sandy to go home and Dorothy would walk her home, which was five houses down River Road. When the two arrived at Sandy's house, Sandy would walk Dorothy home. Laughing all the way. When they reached our house, Dorothy would offer to walk Sandy half way home, and then Sandy would walk Dorothy half way back to her house. And so on. When they got to the point where the fractions of walking each other home were too hard for them to figure out at what point each should turn back, the earlier giggling had progressed to hysterical laughter. My father, upstairs by then, was perplexed and vaguely disapproving of 2 young girls laughing out loud on the street after dark. Such a sad thing to be chided for laughter when soon enough that spontaneous joy and friendship of youth is destined not to be lasting anyway.