Dear Skyler,
Vanessa arrived last week after her long, first-class trip to Spain. As I removed her from her suitcase, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Finally!" she said, "What took you so long?"
"I was in Belgium, Vanessa. I just returned. Did you have a nice trip?"
"It was long," she moaned, "and it's cramped in that envelope."
I flattened her out on my desk and adjusted her necklace. "Well, you are here now and we are going to do a little sightseeing here in Seville. Do you speak any Spanish?"
"A little," she replied, "I can count to 10,000 and I know a few phrases."
"That's an excellent start, Vanessa. Spanish is the third most-spoken language in the world. It's a good one to learn."
"What's the first most-spoken language? English?"
"No. It's Mandarin Chinese, spoken by about a billion people. English is the second most-spoken language."
"Oh. I should probably learn some Chinese, then."
"It's not a bad idea," I observed.
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As the week passed, I sort of forgot about Vanessa. "Things" got in the way. She waited for me, though. Finally, I picked her up off my desk.
"Well, today's the day, Vanessa. Let's go see Seville!"
"It's about time," she grumbled.
I cast my eyes downward, "I know, Vanessa, and I'm really sorry. Really, I am." My apology hung in the air between us. Vanessa said nothing.
"Can we go now?" I asked.
"Sure. Let's do this," she responded. Then, after a moment she vented her frustration, "It's just that I want to be someone special, I want to do something important with my life. I want to leave my mark on the world."
"You are special, Vanessa. I've... I've never known anyone quite like you."
"I need to do this," she repeated, "If not, I may do something... drastic."
"You wouldn't..." my voice trailed off as I quietly locked the cabinet where the scissors are kept.
"I might..." she said, "But don't worry: if I do, I'll be sure to recycle myself."
I was stunned. Frankly, I was unprepared for this. What do you say to a paper doll undergoing an emotional crisis? I did not know, so I did what anyone would do in my situation: I changed the subject.
"Um, okay. Let's go!" I said, but inwardly I knew that things were not right between us. Perhaps a day in the pleasant sunshine of southern Spain would brighten her mood.
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Vanessa and I spent a fabulous day together in Seville. We toured the historic center, sat in the shade of a cool Spanish courtyard.
We admired the lovely dresses of the Flamenco dancers.
We passed by the massive cathedral, with the emblematic tower we know as La Giralda.
We basked in the Spanish architecture, so lovely, so European...
Finally, we came home.
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The next day, Vanessa was in a better mood.
"You look happy," I remarked.
"Oh, I most certainly am," she replied, "I thought of a way to leave my mark on this world."
"Well, that's great. What do you have in mind?"
And then it hit me.
I looked around my office and I saw it:
"No, Vanessa, you didn't..."
I knew it even before I saw the evidence: she had cloned herself.
Vanessa flashed her smile at me in obvious self-satisfaction. "I think the next time I'm going to make a color copy," she remarked, more to herself than to me.
"Oh, Vanessa..."
"Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm going out now."
"Going out?"
"Yes, with that nice flamenco guitar player we met on the street yesterday."
"The guitar player?"
She looked at me with a gleam in her eye. "Sí, él es muy agradable y toca la guitarra muy bien."
"I see you have been practicing your Spanish."
"Por supuesto," she replied as she slipped out the door, leaving me alone with her clone.
"Heh-heh, alone with the clone... that rhymes!" said the clone.
I sighed. There's no one quite like you, Vanessa.
Love, Sue
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