Chapter Eight

What would you like to be when you grow up Sophia," he asked.

"I dunno. I love writing, maybe I would become a writer or a stone artist," I said, my eyes growing bigger with delight as I added a pebble to form a atone art in which a man and a woman were kissing.

"Harrumph. What's cool in playing with stones, anyways, I would like to be a name giver!" He said, triumphantly, raising his fist to the air.

"What's that?" I asked

"What?"

"That"

"What's What?"

"Name giver"

"Oh, that."

"Yeah."

"You should know from the name. It is simply someone who gives names."

"So you want to be a what is it now? Namegiver?"

"Yeah."

"Alright, how does it works," I asked.

"Have you ever wondered why some things are given some names? Why Orange is named Orange and not something like 'bicycle or horse.'

"No, I've never wondered that."

"Awwn," he said, pressing his hand to his chest. "Cute little Sophia, you only know how to eat and inflate those fat cheeks of yours."

"Justin!"

"What? Is it wrong to say that y