Have Done

By G. W. Thomas

The old man shook his head. "I have seen enough fairs for one lifetime."

"Then a swim in the sulphur stream. Good for the bones."

"Nay, I have dipped in baths since I was a babe. Have done."

"Then a walk; we can listen to the birds sing."

"I have heard the song of the purple canaries of the Valian forest. What are mere crows to that?"

"A tumble with a courtesan in the Regaulian spa?"

"After Cleptis, princess of the Amberchees, who could satisfy me?"

"Then what?" demanded the Rainbow Man, his patience taxed.

The old man answered with a bowl of lush yellow fruit. "The grapes of Tespus. It is the only pleasure I have never tasted. Once I have eaten these I shall eat no more."

"Then why eat them?"

"Because I have always had a list in my head," the old man admitted pointing to his bald cranium. "Written there in my twentieth year. To taste every pleasure a man can savor, the beautiful and the wicked: wine; women; wealth; power and the loss of power; sorrow and great happiness; knowledge of the mind and the ignorance of faith. With these grapes I shall have completed that list."

"Then do so."

The old man plucked a swollen yellow grape between arthritic fingers, placed it between toothless gums, savoring the flavor with slow deliberation.

The Rainbow Man left the room. He was alone.

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