A soft blue balloon tapped against the kitchen window. Its glow painted the dark room in silver light.
The young girl pressed her nose to the glass. 'Elio,' she whispered. The balloon bobbed, as if waiting.
The balloon drifted through the open window and tugged both their hands. Up they went, into the London night.
Past Big Ben the balloon soared. The clock struck midnight — a warm bronze boom in the cool wind.
Stars began to pulse around them, one by one, until the whole sky felt like a giant lantern.
She reached out and touched a twinkling star. It chimed like a tiny bell against her fingertip.
The balloon slowed and drifted back down, past the rooftops, through the open window.
They settled onto the carpet, curled up together, eyes already heavy. The balloon floated to the windowsill and stayed.