Very, very short piece done for a class, but...what the heck, I liked it.

"Sarah" is an ancient name. Though it may be hard to imagine, once upon a time it spoke of tents in the blistering desert and innumerable promises made to Abraham in the starry sky. Roving bandits and secret promises to maidservants, humble nights in caravan and all the heady golden power of Egypt. Betrayal, the glory of the Pharaoh, and the dark seduction of kings. Sarah was the woman who laughed at God.

The name has been Christianized and tamed. Instead of sweltering sun and the wrath of an angry god, we see something average, English, commonplace. Parents name their daughters Sarah with church steeples in mind. Ironic, to be christened for a woman whose only heavenly actions were to doubt the angels and follow her husband's lead. The sound of the word is familiar at a glance, yet listening more closely can render it foreign. Sarah. Sarah. Sarah.

I do not see this word as ancient most of the time. My definition of my name is my definition of myself, and I am neither here nor there. But sometimes it's interesting to remember the Sarah of Genesis: beautiful, skeptical, bitter, ruthless. Maybe one day I'll apologize.