“Do you have a different name?”
Michelle didn’t follow, so the barista continued. “There’s another Michelle over there. When we call ‘Michelle,’ everybody will be confused. Do you have another name you use?”
But she didn’t; she had always been Michelle. The barista said, “Let’s go with… Sparkle.” He wrote it on her cup.
At her office, Michelle couldn’t stop thinking about this. “Sparkle” was much too…millennial, but how about “Janice”? “Jessica”?
And riding home on the train: “Sarah”? “Stevie”? “Winona”? Michelle smiled—she could be Winona.
She missed her stop and never looked back. She wasn’t Michelle any longer.