a first line story prompt.
She felt for the lock in the dark.
The sound of the ball hitting against the window startled but then beckoned her.
It wasn’t the first time that he sent a missive.
February floated a heart shaped balloon past her second floor window.
March winds sculpted the promise of early spring . Morning mist formed crystals on the window pane.
April beamed early light just over the horizon . She could see him laughing beneath her window.
At last, she opened the door to the boy who captured her heart on that schoolyard diamond so many seasons ago.