Author: Carla Ra
There was a slight chance her name would be Little Bun. Most likely, though, she would be named Suzanna. Her mother kept cycling names in her head at the moment of birth. She would stop when the baby arrived, and the last name would be the chosen one.
Little Bun, Suzanna, Marcelle, Suzanna, Tina, Antonia, Suzanna, Karina, Elena, Little Bun, Suzanna—a contraction broke the chain of names.
At that moment, the unborn baby was Little Bun and Suzanna at the same time. And also Lydia and Gloria and Tamara. Each possibility encoded her entire future.
The life of Little Bun was distinct. The curse of an unusual name annoyed her. Other kids constantly picked on her during her early years because of it. At times, she got tired and demanded her mother to legally change it. Agatha would be good. On other occasions, she defended her mother’s choice. Little Bun was original, exceptional, compelling. Later in life, she embraced the personality her name encased. Little Bun was a woman to be respected and admired.
As Suzanna, she thrived. Since infancy her name became Sue, and other kids loved it. Everyone wanted to be close to her, but not everyone could. Her friends called her Sue; the others, Suzanna. She learned how to deal with people and how to assess their intentions. Sue was popular, enthused, gifted. Her name was mighty, and so was she. Later in life, she embraced the personality her name encased. Suzanna was a woman to be respected and admired.
Tina had a contemplative life. She struggled with her busy mind, a source of insecurities since childhood, and resented many things about herself. There was more happening inside her head than around her. But she learned how to navigate through the rollercoaster of overthinking and, most days, her life choices seemed right. Notably, however, she never wanted another name. Tina was cozy, simple, cool. Later in life, she embraced the personality her name encased. Tina was a woman to be respected and admired.
Suzanna, Bianca, Suzanna, Lydia, —.
“Push!” ordered the doctor.
The Sun stood in front of the Gemini’s constellation; the Moon was in Aries. The Solar System happened to be under the collection of random stars, which the Great Observer named The Constellation of Parrot. They looked at this tiny universe created in their laboratory with the cosmic microscope. It was the traditional instrument used to watch quantum phenomena in space and time, like the birth of a little girl on the third planet orbiting a generic star located at one arm of a pretty spiral galaxy.
The Great Observer saw the little girl being welcomed to life, collapsing the odds of her name into a single reality.
“She is beautiful!” said the doctor, handing the baby to her mother. “What is her name?”