unfinished short story

He found himself sitting in the corner in the back of the little worn down café. Facing the window, rain droplets fell down one by one. He traced them with his finger as he stared into the glass, watching the cars go by. Dèjá vu crossed his mind of the day he met her. This same table, once before.

He suddenly missed the conversation from the other side of the table. He missed the sound of her laughter at his not so funny jokes.

For once in his life, he realized he made a mistake. The girl of his dreams was on a plane back to where she called home, and he no longer had an idea of where his was.

She was home.