Same random Tuesday. Time: 12:20 p.m.

I love food that lights a bonfire on the tongue, so I look for the takeaway with the hottest flame.

The X is still blinking, but given that the GPS on my phone is a couple of years old, the entire food court could be the area indicated. It's quite an anticlimax that the treasure hunt now feels like a bad joke. I give up on the stupid series of coincidences, stuff the phone in my pocket, and decide to concentrate on food.

I line up at a Mexican takeaway, where they hand me a menu so I can tick off ingredients that will make up my burrito. The menu has a series of circles on the left, and instructions are to mark them with a cross against the items I'd like. I know everyone else has the same menu, but like a famous TV series motto, I want to believe: believe that the recurring pattern of X’s and O’s is anything but a coincidence.

My lunch arrives, bursting with goodness of everything from jalapeno to habanero. I had tried to guess that my order number would be prime. It wasn't.

I dive into the sea of patrons scattered around the food court with the burrito and my guessing game. Four minutes and unknown seconds later, I spot a vacant seat on a table across the floor. But it seems like forever before I can navigate the churning sea of humanity that lies between.

"Is this seat taken?" I ask the girl at the table who has materialised and just had a mouthful of her butter chicken and rice. Perfect timing, you idiot!

She mumbles something and nods. I sit down, assuming her agreement.

"I'm Sorry," she grins, “I was trying to say that if this seat were taken, it wouldn't be here."

I smirk and start peeling the wrapper off the burrito because I don't know what else to do.

Same random Tuesday. Time: unknown

After a few minutes of eating in silence, I feel the urge to converse with a stranger.

"Is it just me, or has the food court suddenly become quiet?" It is probably the worst conversation starter after ‘Is this seat taken?’

She smiles a mysterious smile, which doesn't tell me if she agrees or finds me weird. The latter, I bet.

The girl herself seems odd. Not in terms of physical appearance, but her accessories are pretty weird. The eyebrows are at an angle most of us can't manage without training. Her hair is tied in an equally strange manner. Not that I’m an expert at women’s hairdos. Her clothes… almost everything feels unfamiliar.

"Yes, it does feel quieter in these parts."

In these parts? Is she the Queen?

I'm guessing she will leave at any moment, having finished her meal. She doesn't.

My next bite launches an attack of pure Capsaicin on my taste buds. My flushed face is red, and tears are welling up inside my lower eyelids.

"Excuse me-" I cough, and cough again, "I went all out with the chillies, didn't I?"

"Seems you can't handle spice, can you?" She laughs and points at my sorry face.

"I can... it's just..." Then, I am laughing, too, between coughs and tears.

I notice the food court around me once my embarrassment dries up on my cheeks.

Why is everything blurred?

I rub my eyes with my knuckles, avoid the chilli on my fingers, blink vigorously, and look up again. Still blurred, the girl, a stranger, is in sharp focus, but the rest of the place blurs out as if looking through a fishbowl: fuzzier at the edges. I see a similar effect when I scan the food court.

Am I dying? Is this an early stage of extreme food poisoning?

I am staring into the half-eaten burrito when the girl laughs her enigmatic laughter.

"It's OK," she reaches out to pat my hand. “It's the same here: just you in focus."

Despite the spectacle, I am more concerned with my hands being grubby from the Mexican sauce where she has touched them. "You... you know this is happening? How? I mean..." I am mildly annoyed at her, especially with myself, for following that stupid X here.

The X!

I fumble around my blurred pocket for the phone. The red notification light is gone, and there's a green notification instead. Throwing the burrito down on the plate, I unlock the phone. Somehow. I can feel her eyes following my actions. The maps app is open. I loved geography back in high school but now hate everything that has to do with cartography. A big blue circle with a red X mocks me. A popup balloon also says: ‘No Stopping now.’

On an impulse, I try to stand up, but the focus circle–or sphere–of my vision is shrinking, and I teeter.

"Why don't you sit down?"

Same random Tuesday. Time: still unknown

"Hi! I'm Sally."

I pause long enough at the absurdity of this rendezvous.

"Peter," I reply and start to offer her my hand, but then I pull it back. She laughs. "It's just these..."

"I know. It's all over your fingers,"

I begin to clean my hands with the paper napkin, which takes me a few moments to locate.

"So... uh Sally, how do you know about this thing?" I ask, waving my hand around to indicate the weird fuzzy cocoon around us, "Butter chicken is mild as far as I'm aware."

She laughs again. "Peter, are you a sceptic or a believer?"

"What? Why?"

"What if I told you that you and I are at the intersection of two worlds-"

Indeed, it’s not like INXS's ‘Never Tear Us Apart’, but it sure is music to the science-lover in me. Yet, I stay cautious.

"I'd say it's an impressive illusion, and you're nuts!"

Some more of the other-worldly laughter.

"Okay, there's this multi-world theory–"

"Yes, I know." I interrupt her and immediately regret it. She hasn't heard me.

"that every particle is an intersection of countless universes."

"Yeah, I’ve read it, too." I try to correct her: " Subatomic particles, yes. Macro world objects like you or me, nope!"

"Ah! so that's what you know so far–"

"Excuse me?" I'm beginning to wonder why I'm still here. The vision is still fuzzy, and she's attractive.

Fair enough.

"You're saying us", I jab my finger at myself and then at her, "are also here because of the overlapping worlds?"

"In a way, yes, but let me explain."

I lean forward, pushing the food aside. The blurriness is a halo around her beautiful face.  

Did I say Beautiful? Jeez.

"This table and the chairs you and I share are in an intersection."

"Wait!" I am alarmed, "You're saying you're from a–"

"Yup!" she smiles and nods.

"Look, Ms. Sally, I don't know what you're trying to do–"

"A sceptic then, huh?" She interrupts me, "Why don't you rise and back away, a few steps, from your chair?"

"I sure will, and not just a few!" I exclaim and get up. I'm still disoriented but getting used to the limiting vision. I back away from the table and gasp. The table's empty. A step forward, I can see her faint image again. Back a step: no girl. Just the table and the chairs.

Reluctant but intrigued, I am back in the chair and the… intersection.

"Hold on a sec!" I object with a click of my fingers, "I saw you across the food court earlier."

"You sure? Or did you see the empty chair?"

She's right. I had been preoccupied with scoring a seat. But I'm not finished yet.

"But when I got here, I saw you before I sat down. I asked you if the seat was taken, remember?"

"Sure," she replies, "The intersection can shrink or grow. Also, it doesn’t always stay stable long enough for people to meet like we are now.” She moves her index finger rapidly between us.

“So, when will this one close?”

“Can’t say.”

"Oh!” I exclaim in a mild panic, thinking of what would happen if the intersection collapsed without notice. I wait momentarily and then ask, “You speak like you've done this before?"

"Maybe not done, but we are aware of them."

"We? There are more of you?"

"As many as there are in your world, at least!" She laughs.

"So," I ask after a long-ish pause, "Is there a me on your side too?"

"Sure, why not?"

That's it?

"Have you met him? I mean me, I mean–" I stop abruptly.

"Don't know. It doesn't work like that."

"You seem to be an authority on these... intersections!"

"It's high school science, so... kinda!" She spreads her arms in a shrug. Then, she spots me staring at her, wide-eyed and laughs again.

I can't resist saying. "Excuse me, but your laughter is strangely familiar, yet… other-worldly!"

"Hah! In a good way or bad?"

"I'm not sure... it's just familiar." I look around. The ‘intersection’ hasn't grown or shrunk.

"Tell me, Sally." I startle her, "Did you have an X and an O messing with your brain too?"

"Since yesterday, yes. That’s how I got here."

Whoa!

"What did you see?" I probe further.

"My phone wouldn't let me ignore it. There was this circle that kept beckoning me."

"The X you mean–"

"No! The X followed my location."

Odd.

I want to clear my buzzing mind. Feynman said nobody understands Quantum physics, but this is madness, so I must ask.

"Are you implying opposites? Male Female? Yin Yang?"

"You can say it aloud," she laughs, "Entanglement."

"Spooky action at a distance..." I murmur.

Spooky alright.