\u201cI love you, Jonathon,\u201d Voice said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know you do, Voice.\u201d The sun was golden and the air was pleasantly warm in the vineyard.<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you well, Jonathon? Don\u2019t you want to make wine today?\u201d <\/p>\n
\u201cNo Voice, not today,\u201d Jonathon said. <\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about climbing?\u201d Voice wondered. \u201cYou do love the mountains.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon did love to climb and the winds there were always cool and the snow always white and soft. But no, he was just so tired lately.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot today, I don\u2019t think, Voice,\u201d he said. He tossed a grape and caught it in his mouth. He sat down. The grass was dew-wet and green.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about riding?\u201d Voice said. The world shifted, tilted before him, and Jonathon could see a field in the distance. The horses there were sleek and well fed. Jonathon did love to ride.<\/p>\n
\u201cNot today, Voice. Perhaps tomorrow.\u201d He got to his feet and began to walk.<\/p>\n
Voice was silent for a time until Jonathon reached the ocean. The waves were white-tipped and the breeze brisk. The beach was golden with white pebbles and swaying palm trees.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat about sailing?\u201d Voice said. \u201cYou do love to sail.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon threw a pebble and turned away. He walked through a desert where the sand was warm and the sun red.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs something bothering you, Jonathon?\u201d Voice said.<\/p>\n
Jonathon stopped. He could see a well that would contain cooling water less than a mile away. \u201cBothering me, Voice?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou seem restless today.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAm I?\u201d Jonathon was thirsty, he realized. He walked on to the well. It was closer now. He wound the bucket up. The water was clear and fresh. <\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d Voice said. \u201cIs there anything I can do, Jonathon?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon wound the bucket back down. \u201cI don\u2019t think so, Voice. I just sometimes wonder about the others.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe others?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Voice. The others like me. Why am I the last one? Why me?\u201d He walked on again. The water had been refreshing.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not, Jonathon? You\u2019re no worse or better than any other. Why not you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon smiled. \u201cYou knew them all, Voice. Am I really no better or worse than any of them?\u201d He came to a cool babbling brook in a green and pleasant land. <\/p>\n
\u201cThere were many people here,\u201d Voice finally said. The sun was bright once more, but not too warm. \u201cBut none I loved so well as you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you ever get lonely, Voice?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cLonely? I have you, Jonathon.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon nodded. \u201cAnd I you, Voice. You truly are a wonder. But sometimes I want to share your wonder with another. You show me true beauty in the world, but who can I share it with?\u201d There was a silence in the blue sky. \u201cI think it must be a failing in me.\u201d<\/p>\n
A further silence in which the sky fell dark. Stars lit the night and the moon was yellow.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, not a failing in you,\u201d Voice said. \u201cPerhaps I have been selfish in thinking I could be enough for you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSelfish? You, Voice? You gave me life!\u201d Jonathon smiled, but there was a sadness in it, too. He remembered the Great Library with its books speaking of love and wonder, and wonder and love. What was beauty, the books had said, if there was nobody to share it with?<\/p>\n
The world turned and the moon fell and the sun rose and a bridge of ancient stone spanned a rippling river. <\/p>\n
\u201cThere was another,\u201d Voice said. \u201cAnother who survived the plague. I kept her from you because I was afraid she would displease you.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon saw her on the bridge. She was tall and slender with golden shoulders. \u201cOr I would displease her,\u201d he breathed.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat too,\u201d Voice said in an inflectionless voice.<\/p>\n
She was named Helen, and Jonathon showed her the Great Library and the Barrier Reef and Victoria Falls. Helen hung upon his every word.<\/p>\n
When he touched her skin, she was pliant and when he made love to her, she murmured appreciative words in his ear under vines that whispered in a warm breeze.<\/p>\n
\u201cVoice!\u201d Jonathon called out one morning, a tiger cub nuzzling his palm. <\/p>\n
\u201cYes, Jonathon?\u201d Voice had been quiet a long while.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am old, Voice. My beard is white and Helen is still young and golden and appreciative.\u201d He had read books in the Great Library, books where men had to fight for a woman\u2019s love, where women were challenging and opinionated. Why wasn\u2019t Helen like that? She laughed at his jokes and was quiet when he was restless. <\/p>\n
\u201cHave you thought of children?\u201d Voice said, after a long pause. <\/p>\n
\u201cChildren?\u201d Jonathon thought of the children he would have. They would be perfect and studious and handsome. Their family would be happy beyond measure. <\/p>\n
The very thought of it made Jonathon sink to his knees in exhaustion. <\/p>\n
\u201cI am done, Voice. I am an old man and I am done. All I ask of you now, for any love you have for me, is to show me the Truth of things.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Truth?\u201d asked the voice from the sky.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe Truth,\u201d Jonathon said. <\/p>\n
The world turned, then. The grass beneath his feet fell away and the golden sun vanished from the sky, taking the white clouds with it.<\/p>\n
Jonathon knelt upon a grilled walkway, the steel above him black and bolted. The window at his shoulder was small and round and showed a planet where the clouds were white and the seas blue.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt took longer than your species could have ever imagined to get here,\u201d Voice said. \u201cYou are the last survivor of tens of thousands.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jonathon pressed his hands to the window. The clouds on the planet coiled. \u201cTake me there,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt wasn\u2019t the haven your kind had prayed for,\u201d Voice said.<\/p>\n
Jonathon fingered his white beard. \u201cTell me, Voice. Are there others like me there? Others of my kind?\u201d He thought of the thousands upon thousands of silent chambers all around him and he gripped a cold steel pole as something shifted beneath his feet and distant engines began to rumble.<\/p>\n
A long silence. <\/p>\n
\u201cI love you, Jonathon.\u201d Voice finally said, cold and sterile.<\/p>\n
Jonathon swallowed as he watched the planet draw near. \u201cI know you do, Voice.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cI love you, Jonathon,\u201d Voice said. \u201cI know you do, Voice.\u201d The sun was golden and the air was pleasantly warm in the vineyard. \u201cAre you well, Jonathon? Don\u2019t you want to make wine today?\u201d \u201cNo Voice, not today,\u201d Jonathon said. \u201cWhat about climbing?\u201d Voice wondered. \u201cYou do love the mountains.\u201d Jonathon did love to …<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5080,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3044],"tags":[3045],"class_list":["post-67676","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-tcl-21-fall-2016","tag-the-colored-lens-21-autumn-2016","entry entry-center"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67676","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5080"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=67676"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67676\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139511,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67676\/revisions\/139511"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=67676"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=67676"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/thecoloredlens.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=67676"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}