a voice on the wind

Coming home late tonight, long after midnight…

As I was walking up the driveway, a few stray flurries of snow in the air around me…

I stopped.

A voice, far off . . . one word, harsh and cold and drawn out breathless like the frigid night air.

My name.

Not my real name. The name I grew up with, what I was born with. The name no one calls me anymore.

I wait, listening.

Nothing.

Fair enough, I think to myself as I head inside. You can get back to me when you’re ready.