She managed to go through her order without hesitation, which was not a small feat. She would always stress when it was her turn to order. The words would be blurred by the gaze of the Starbucks employee. She did not know how to react to friendliness.
She was taking a caramel macchiato. She was taking it grande.
Then arrived the answer she knew she could not answer.
What was her name again? Well she could spell it. She could definitely fake it. Saying that she hates her name was inaccurate. She was pretty unsynchronized with that name. She felt she had someone else's name. Maybe she would meet that person and get back her name.
My name is D.E.W
Answering the unspoken question of the employee's eyes
My mum was an painter...
As if it would explain anything.
Photo by Hans Vivek on Unsplash