Stories from The Moon / Cuentos de la Luna

She was given a different name when she was born. Tonight she feels like the woman bearing that name. The first one, the one that only a few of her relatives remember. She wonders if she’d gotten it wrong--trying to be her second name when, maybe, she isn’t who I am. Perhaps those short months wearing the first name and having it switched abruptly misconnected the wires of fate. Perhaps this is why she can’t sleep--because she’s trying to be found. But this wrong name makes it impossible to pinpoint her location. Whose life has she been living? Is this the life of the second name? She’s been living in the space between two names. Tonight she sees the straight lines and unturned paths that brought her here.