The search bar does not care about my fictions. It returns to zero.
I close the browser. But I do not clear the search history. Let the query remain there, a tiny headstone in the cloud: Mensia Francis. All Categories. No results.
Not a single mention. No yearbook photo, no census record, no forgotten blog comment, no LinkedIn profile, no court docket, no obituary, no byline. It is as if Mensia Francis never existed. And yet, the name arrived in my mind like a half-remembered lullaby—specific, rhythmic, possessed of a quiet dignity. Mensia. Uncommon. Possibly a variant of Mencia or Mensia from medieval Iberia, or a creative spelling of “Mens sana” ( sound mind ). Francis. Common enough to be a surname, a first name, a saint’s name. Together, they form a paradox: utterly singular, utterly untraceable.
Zero results.
