Prachi gazed at the veins of dilute creeping their direction the window. She looked as they mixed into each other and broke separated all of a sudden. To her, it was an amusement. The veins of water were people coming together and leaving, and the ones that made it to the windowsill together were the people that were meant to be with each other.
She was a riddle to most; more often than not she wasn't available in this world. She lived in the fantasies that floated through her head like the little shine of a satellite in the night sky. Going someplace, yet no place in the meantime.
The vast majority she had always wanted spun around destiny and the perfect partners it would lead you to. Prachi did everything possible to find a soulmate for her. She wished on stars and gathered the pennies left in the city. She left her name and phone number in every book she touched and on every dollar bill she received in hopes that one day someone might care enough to call. She figured someday her prince charming would find the glass slippers she had scattered around the world for him.
“Madam,” said the coffee shop waitress.
Prachi flipped her head towards her. “Sorry, I was lost in a thought.” Her focus began to return to the window, but she quickly pulled herself back into the real world.
“Can I get you anything?” asked the waitress.
“ A coffee,” Prachi said.
“Anything in it?”
“Oh, no,” Prachi mumbled. “Just plain.”
“Black?” The waitress raised an eyebrow.
“Yes,same thing,” Prachi said, absent-mindedly.
The waitress studied Prachi before walking away. She, like most people, could not even begin to fathom what was going on inside her head.
However, across the coffee shop sat a man doing the exact same thing as the waitress. He watched Prachi’s face light up when the droplets reached the windowsill together. Eventually, his face imitated the glow of Prachi’s.
“Excuse me Sir,” the same waitress said to the man. “Can I get you anything?”
The man blinked a few times to pull himself out of Prachi’s reality. “Just coffee,” he muttered.
The waitress let out a huff and rolled her eyes. “Would you like anything in it, sir?”
“No,” he said, half in the real world and half in Prachi’s world looking straight at her
The waitress walked back over to Prachi and set the coffee down in front of her without Prachi noticing. She had to tap Prachi’s shoulder to get her attention and a signature for the check. Prachi apologized, frantically, and handed the waitress five ones. Each had her name and number on it. By now, the waitress had decided not to question Prachi’s actions anymore.
Prachi didn’t touch her coffee. She was too consumed in watching the small rainbows that were forming in the droplets as the sun replaced the clouds.
The man across the room was consumed with his thoughts, too, but his thoughts contained Prachi, not rainbows.
“Your coffee, sir,” waitress said.
The man muttered something that may have been, “Thanks.” The sound had gotten stuck in his throat, never making its way out.
“Sir,” the waitress said, losing her patience. “That will be five dollars.”
“Um.” The man searched through his pockets. “I have a twenty.”
The waitress sighed and walked back to the cash register. She grabbed a ten. There were no fives left. She sighed, taking Prachi’s five ones instead.
By now, Prachi had left. The man silently scolded himself for losing sight of her. A full mug of coffee, still steaming, sat on her table.
The waitress slapped the dollar bills down on the man’s table.
“Er, thanks,” he muttered.
As he placed the dollars into his wallet, Prachi’s name and number in a black gel pen with flecks of sparkles in it like the sun reflecting on water caught his eye. Most people would ignore Prachi’s letters. Many wouldn’t even notice them, but the man did.
The man pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called the number on his way out of the coffee shop.
“Hello?” Prachi asked.
“Is this Prachi?” asked the man.
A smile etched itself onto Prachi’s face. “Yes,” she sighed. “Yes, it is.”