Short Stories

Soulmate

                              I  looked at my arm. There they were again, the marks. I watched as they spread like brush strokes across my skin. What would they create this time? Ah, there is was. A flower, with dark black outlines, and pale pink petals. It was beautiful. My soulmate must be an artist. Everyone knew that whenever your soulmate wrote on their skin, it would show up on yours. Most could use this to meet their soulmate, but when I tried I never got an answer. Whenever I see writing on my arm, it's always a drawing.

                           I picked up a pen. I couldn't create as beautifully as them but I could try.

                          A line. Another, a shaky circle. Shading, if you could even call it that. A hat, 3 circles, a scarf.

                         Then that was it. A snowman. Color starts to fill it, they must be trying to help. The snow a pale pink, the hat a deep blue, the scarf green and red polka dots, his carrot nose a burgundy color. His eyes and buttons a dark grey.

                             Numbers underneath him. What? Why are they writing numbers? Two sets of numbers, what needs numbers? Coordinates! Coordinates, why did I never think of that? I rush to get paper and a pen and write them down. Dubai? I check again. Dubai. They must be in Dubai. So they speak English, but they could never meet me. I must see them. I write on my arm,

                                    "I'm coming to see you."

                                      I buy plane tickets that night, and I never see my home again.