Using Her Name Again

Sylvia hadn’t used her full name in years. Somewhere along the way,

it had been shortened, softened, reshaped to fit rooms that didn’t quite have space

for her. Each version smaller than the last. When she signed the divorce papers,

the pen trembled, not from fear, but from recognition. Her name, written clearly,

felt like meeting someone she used to know. She rented a small apartment with creaky

floors and a view of nothing remarkable. Still, every night, she stood in front

of the bathroom mirror and practiced saying her name aloud. At first,

it sounded unfamiliar. Too bold. Too honest. She began taking up space in other