spring

When I came home the girl who lives across the street was standing at her front door with a boy who must be her boyfriend, possibly her first boyfriend. She must be about sixteen, I think. I smiled to myself because they looked so cute and young and innocent and in love. I walked up to my room and opened the windows and sat down to read and I could still hear them laughing outside over the noise of the occasional passing car and the birds were singing loudly for the first time and I felt slightly sentimental once again.