Sally
2003-10-27 - 1:53 a.m.

Sally had always hated her name. Ever since she was old enough to comprehend her name, she’d hated it. It sounded like an old woman’s name. It wasn't sexy or alluring like Emily or Natasha, or even Jenny (Every other person she knew seemed to be named Jenny, but it was still better than Sally).

She hated her name until one day she met a boy named Charlie. He didn’t really have a problem with his name, or with Sally’s either. He seemed to like pretty much everything about Sally.

One day, Sally opened her locker to find that a letter had been slipped in. The sloppy scrawl on the envelope was obviously masculine. She opened it, and was unsurprised to find that it was from Charlie. It was a love letter. She read it, and then placed it back in the envelope, which she stared at. The corners were bent, and the handwriting was all but illegible. Still, it could be made out when she looked closely.

“To Sally.”

For a moment, she thought it was the most beautiful name in the world.