Marjie

Marjorie Amelia...

I take my pointer finger and begin writing my name in the ceiling. To the naked eye, the letters appear invisible, but as I formed each symbol with my bare finger, continuously adjusting to avoid the spokes of my ceiling, I saw my name appear in a bold, comic sans font with red hue like that of a circus tent.

I wondered if my name would ever be seen anywhere other than on the roof of my bedroom ceiling or stamped on the top of school assignments.

I go by Marjie. I love my name because of the soft "g" sound at the end. When I say it, it sounds like golashes crunching in the snow.