Unfinished

A chance encounter reveals a destructive tendency

Photo by Helena Hertz on Unsplash

Cold drops of rain kissed my wavy hair, and I covered my head with one hand to protect it. In the other, I clutched my keys and oversized purse. Silly me, I’d left my jacket in the front seat of the car.

I eyed the entrance to our local supercenter. The sky darkened, and a clap of thunder sounded in the near distance.

I hopped over a puddle and tucked my purse against my side as the raindrops intensified. If I hurried, I could make it before the heavy rain arrived.

That’s when I saw her, standing at a payphone just beyond the weather’s reach.

Those unmistakable red, curly locks triggered a tidal wave of memories. Hours of watching her stand in front of the mirror in our shared dorm room, preparing for the day ahead. Mornings when I’d leave for class early, and she’d still be in bed, her hair fanned across the pillow like Sleeping Beauty awaiting her prince.

I froze, the impending storm no longer a concern.

I was no mathematician, but the odds of a random sighting here, five years after we shared a freshman dorm room, had to be miniscule.

A bolt of nearby lightning revived my sense of urgency, and I rushed to beat a car nearing the crosswalk.