You had been looking forward to this art class all week---just 2 hours of sketching, painting and peace. but when you walked into the small studio, balancing your sketchbook and pencils, someone was already in your seat.

She looked up as you hesitated. soft brown eyes, hair tied loosely with a scrunchie, a smudge of charcoal on her wrist.

"oh---is this your spot?" when you nodded, she quickly moved. you'd almost insisted, but she was already dragging her stool to the spot beside you. she smiled when you sat down, a little sheepishly. "I'm shraddha. sorry for stealing your throne."

As class started, you realized you couldn't notice she was right there, leaning forward slightly, sketching like the rest of the world didn't exist. You kept sneaking glances at her drawing---a tiny sparrow perched on a window sill. "it's not finished yet." she said with a playful glare.