Writing on the Wall

Three words were written on the cement barrier near the Student Union’s bike rack.  Each letter was drawn carefully in pink chalk and outlined in blue.  They would have been bright against the dull grey at first, but the color had been whittled away by the wind after a few days.  It didn’t say who they were to or who they were from.

She wondered if the person the words had been meant for had seen them.  Did they know who sent it?  Did they know it had been aimed at them?

Three little words.  “I miss you.”  It was so specific, so personal.  Perhaps a parent had left it there for their son or daughter, just starting college, so they would see it and feel a little less homesick.  Or maybe a significant other had written it at the end of a weekend visit from a school in another state.  They must have known the person it was meant for would see it.  Recognize the lettering.  Know it was for them.  She hoped so.

Or maybe it was the universe itself, taking the opportunity to talk to her.  Maybe she was missed.  It seemed unlikely, but why not?  After all, here she was, reading the words.  The message could be for her after all.  That would be nice.  It would be nice to think someone missed her.  Even if the person who had written them was directing them at someone else, the universe put her here, right now, so she would see them.

As crazy as it seemed, she smiled a little.  She was missed.  It didn’t matter by whom.  All that mattered was that it was true.  And she decided that it was.

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