Each week, I work alphabetically through my naming book, and randomly pick a name from the first page of each letter. I close my eyes, point my finger, and then create a short story using that name.
This week’s ‘J’ name randomly selected from the first ‘J’ page in my naming book is:
Jack: A masculine diminutive form of John, now used independently. Other diminutive forms are Jackie, Jacky.
I don’t remember my birth name. I remember the storm, the lightning, the fire in the thatch. I remember feeling the most unbelievable sense of grief that has never been matched since. I believe it was for my mother. Her face is not an image I can recall. The sound of her voice is non-existent in my catalogue of half memories, but my soul knows she died in the fire that night. My memories are full of holes, my name being one of them.
The boys named me when they found me- Jack. I am Jack. I had to say it to myself over and over. Now, I really am Jack. That little boy from before died in the fire with his mother, and Jack rose from the ashes.
Written works are the property of K.J.Chapman
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