Wish It Would Her Name
Varsha was exhausted after experiencing a bad day; she truly felt that the mercury retrograde was affecting her. First, she hit a pothole, bust her front right tire and was late to her major meeting. She dropped her iPad on the ground. Now, she was on the phone with her bank.
“Yes, I understand,” she said to the receiver, “There’s nothing you can do to handle this fraud claim over the phone.”
She called her bank about a mysterious transaction on her savings account and found out that an ACH transaction was made against her account. Now the money she had saved to attend her best friend Valencia's destination wedding is gone.
“Yes, thank you. I will go to my closest branch in the morning. Again thank you.” Varsha said exasperated. Her cordless phone rang before she could place it back in the cradle.
“Varsha, what is your message about?” Valencia asked quickly. “What do you mean your money is gone?”
Varsha went on to explain to her best friend about the ACH transaction, how she may not be able to get the money back in time for the wedding and may not be able to be the maid of honor.
“What do you mean you may not be my maid of honor?! You can’t borrow money from someone? What the heck, Varsha?” Valencia shouted.
Holding her cordless phone to her ear, the phone call with her best friend started to sound like a steady grumble. Varsha watched the large, heather gray storm clouds through her living room’s picture window.
“I wish it would rain.” she said softly to herself, forgetting she was on the phone.
Varsha craved to see the beautiful wonder her parents named her after.
“What do you mean you wish it would rain on my wedding day?!” her best friend shrieked.
“What? No, I mean, I wish it would rain now,” she replied quickly, “and rain on your wedding day is good luck. Anyway, I have to go.”
Varsha hung up the phone and moved closer to her picture window, reciting a silent prayer to the fierce Yoruba orisha, Oya, requesting her presence through an enchanting thunderstorm. She hoped her wish would be granted. The rain clouds grew darker, the wind started to whistle and thunder rumbled in the distance. She returned the cordless phone back to its cradle, sat at her desk, turned on her MacBook Pro, and started to work as the first lightning strike streaked across the darkened sky. The rain began to fall. Excited, Varsha jumped up from her desk, moved quickly across her teak hardwood floor, grabbed the cream colored cashmere knit blanket she kept on her sofa, and went outside onto her patio to watch the rain fall. She enjoyed the feeling of the cool wetness on her bare feet. The rainfall was torrential, thunder roared, lightning flashed and Varsha smiled contentedly.
Originally created in December 2017 for The Art of Visual Storytelling course.
