The old man clutched his coffee cup in a way not dissimilar to the way one would hold a newborn baby. A gentle caress, with his littlest finger nestled just so in the crook of the handle. The man must have been feeling the chill of the cloudy room. Though realistically the cup could not be providing much warmth. Not more warmth than that of a newborn baby. For despite the aversion to steaming coffee, there exists an explosive energy within a newborn baby known only to one who holds her. Her name is Sylvia. Last names are not important, for they say very little about the person who bears them. A first name, on the other hand, is of utmost importance. The name becomes the person, the person grows the mold of their name. All else is outgrowed as the baby becomes a toddler, child, adult. A name fits all, always. And what of those who change their name? Impossible. For the name still only belongs to them. Imagine someone saying your name right now - a warming sensation. No...
