The Last Bench

A short story

Anoushka Prasad

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Each afternoon, Arjun occupied the last bench of the college courtyard, headphones on, feigning to listen to music. It was the only spot where he could be by himself, where no one inquired. 

Then, one afternoon, someone else was there. 

A girl, sitting on his bench, reading through a book. She didn’t glance up when he sat down, nor did she shift position. It was as though she had always been there. 

The following day, she was back. And the day after that. 

One afternoon, he finally spoke up. “What are you reading?” 

She looked at him. “It’s a diary.” 

He furrowed his brow. “Yours?” 

She smiled weakly. “No. Someone left it behind.” 

Arjun hesitated. “What’s in it?” 

She flipped a page. “Just fragments of someone’s life. Little things. Like the way they sat on this bench every day, waiting for something. Or someone.” 

An odd sensation swept over him. “Do you know who it is?” 

She shook her head. “No name. Just memories.” 

They read the diary together for a week. The author wrote about being invisible, about wishing someone would see them. There were mentions of the bench, the trees, the students passing by without even a glance. It was intimate, as if someone was talking to them. 

Then, one day, the girl was not there. 

Arjun searched for her, but she never returned. 

The diary remained on the bench. 

He turned to the last page. His hand trembled as he read the final line: 

“Maybe tomorrow, someone will finally talk to me.” 

The entry was dated one year ago. 

His chest constricted. He turned to the first page, searching for anything. At the bottom of the first entry was a name. 

A name he had ne’er seen before. 

It was hers. 

And suddenly, he knew—she had been waiting all along...