Mum was yelling from the bottom of the stairs: I was late, again.
Bleary eyed, I reached for my jeans.
On each knee a sticky, wet grass stain. Pulling them closer to inspect the dark green patches I could smell it: strawberries. It was on my hands too, and in the hair on my arms. Suddenly it was everywhere.
Fumbling, excited fingers checked the pockets:
A crumpled McDonald’s receipt, a daisy chain and a torn corner of pink notepaper – on it a number and five swirly kisses beside a smiley face.
I felt dizzy.
Was this love?
Mum yelled again.
These words form my entry into this week’s Friday Fictioneers photo prompt challenge.