"Dear diary..."
Karla spoke in the darkness.
The darkness lifted with the soft glow of a lamp that illuminated a red notebook on the night table.
"Hey Karla! Why are you up so early?" said the red notebook.
"I couldn't sleep. I feel restless," she said adjusting the sheets to warm herself up this cool Autumn morning.
"Could it be all that coffee you've been having?" the diary wondered. "According to the latest entries you've been averaging three point five cups a day. Not to mention the vitamins and supplements."
Karla turned over in bed and lay with her hand across her forehead.
"I don't know," she said. "I don't think it's that. It's something else. I feel...kind of... lonely."
"Oh boy," said the diary.
"What?" said Karla sheepishly.
"I know what this is about." An audio clip from a popular song called Young Ladies Just Want to Have A Little Fun began to play. "It's been ten months since you broke up with that dufus boyfriend of ours, and you're feeling a little, shall we say, Restless in New Seattle?"
Karla laughed.
"Don't be silly," she said. "We're in Venice."
"I know, I know. We've been here for three months now. How much longer do you plan to keep us here? All these gondolas are getting to me."
"You're so rude sometimes!" Karla told her diary.
"You know what they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," replied the notebook.
"You should be supportive. That's what diaries are for. You gather my experiences, stitch them up, and allow me to reflect."
"I know what you need," said the diary.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"A date!" The notebook began to pulsate with a pink light and play a famous Spring tune.
"Ridiculous!" Karla replied to the notebook.
"No, no, hear me out," said the diary. "I can find other diaries in the area and check them out for you. If anyone matches, I'll let you know. No hassles."
"You're supposed to be my diary, not my pimp."
"Just don't worry your pretty little head. Go to sleep and soon you'll feel like a brand new woman."
The room returned darkness as the light dimmed until it winked out. There was silence. Thought not really silence considering the turmoil of thoughts in her mind. Maybe her diary was right. She needed to get out more and meet people.
Meet people...
Meet...
Peop...
In the tram later that afternoon, her satchel buzzed and dinged insistently.
Karla opened it and grabbed her diary.
"What is it?" she whispered. "I'm kind of busy."
"I have great news!" said the diary. "I found you a match!"
"A match? What-"
"Don't you remember the conversation we had this morning? Would you like me to replay it?"
"No, no, don't do that, please," Karla said panicking and looking around her at the other passengers. "Who is it then?"
"It's an American expat whom I think you will find rather fetching," said the diary.
"Fetching?"
"Isn't that the word you used in an entry on January first, two thous-?"
"Fine, fine. Just go on."
The notebook pulsated and a profile appeared on its pages. Mark Newman. Twenty-seven. Anomaly Investigator.
"A detective?" said Karla with a chuckle.
"He nicely complements your anthropological profile."
"I don't know..." she said.
"No need to worry about making a decision now because I've already set us up for a date!"
"You did what?" hissed Karla trying hard not to shout at her notebook.
"You'll never know if he's your Knight in Shining Armor until you meet him. Looking at your calendar, I see that you don't have any meaningful engagements this Saturday, so I thought we could grab coffee with Mark and his diary."
Karla raised the notebook and looked at images and videos of Mark walking through various locales- the woods, a harbour, on top a tower, abandoned homes- impeccably dressed and groomed.
Quite dapper, she thought with an amused glint in her eyes.
She sighed. "Fine!" she told the diary, "But don't forget that this was your idea."
"Does seven work for you?"
"That'll do," she said in a disinterested tone. She then snapped her diary shut and put it back in her satchel.
She met him that Saturday afternoon at a quaint coffee shop near the canal. How lovely it was with the gondolas gliding silently across the water, and the sun dipping low on the horizon. The sunlight struck the rooftops and mosaics with an array of golden colors. The sound of a tolling bell sent the pigeons up in a flutter, fanning out against the kaleidoscope sky.
"I have to admit that I was intrigued by your bio," Mark said to her as he stirred the sugar in his cup. "It's not everyday you meet a museum anthropologist. It's very unusual."
"Unusual? You're a paranormal investigator," Karla said sipping from her cup. "That must be oddballs."
He laughed. "It's more pedestrian than you think, but there have been a few cases that leave me wondering. I'm skeptic but always open minded."
"I can see that," Karlas said, briefly looking into his eyes then away at the boats gliding along the canal.
The sky turned from brass to copper until night descended like a soft mantle that covered them with its starry embroidery. Their meeting was a journey of discovery with a grand sense of wonder. Like two intrepid explorers who suddenly find each other in the middle of a jungle, they shared stories of their travels and discoveries with much excitement.
Beside them on the table, the two diaries glowed softly, quietly recording each second, each minute and moment that stretched into the hours.
Thank you for reading my story, which is inspired by the Ink Well Fiction Prompt #172: Diary.
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