Daily Writing Prompt

‘Stardust! What kind of name is that?’ My voice sounded far away. The sound that was clear and close was the pounding of my heart in my chest.

‘It’s a name I gave myself when I turned eighteen and left the home.’ The steady delivery of the words indicated the answer had been practised and repeated too many times.

The pause was my chance to deny. Any and all responses I had rehearsed over the years deserted me. My mouth was dry and the phone burnt my hand. Finally, the call I hoped would never happen, but always knew would, came. ‘Private number,’ the screen read, and that should have been a dead giveaway. The call started almost like a survey, requesting confirmation of name, age, place of birth, which I mechanically responded to. ‘I’m sorry, I’m in the middle of something and I can’t talk right now. If you have an offer, please send an email with details and I will get back to you if I am interested.’

‘You need to listen, Mrs Kahn. This is important.’ I had never heard this voice before, yet it was recognisable to me. I knew the young woman who went on to introduce herself, with that ridiculous name, that she was the baby I gave up when I was a scared and alone teenager more than twenty years ago.