the voice
[...]The knight cried for so long that his tears poured through the holes in his visor and soaked
the rug beneath him. The tears flowed into the fireplace and doused the fire. Indeed, the
entire room was starting to flood, and the knight might have drowned if another door hadn’t
appeared in the wall just then.
Although he was exhausted from the deluge, he waded to the door, pulled it open, and
entered a room that wasn’t much bigger than the stall where he’d once kept his horse. “I
wonder why these rooms keep getting smaller,” he asked himself aloud.
A voice replied, “Because you’re closing in on yourself.“
Startled, the knight looked around. He was alone – or so he had believed. Who had spoken?
“You did,” said the voice in answer to his thought.
The voice seemed to come from within himself. Could that be?
“Yes, it could be,” answered the voice. “I am the real you.”
“But I’m the real me,” protested the knight.
“Look at yourself,” said the voice with a note of disgust, “sitting there half-starved in that
hunk of junk with a rusted visor and sporting a soggy beard. If you are the real you, both of
us are in trouble!”
“Now see here,” said the knight, “I’ve lived all these years without hearing a word from you.
Now that I do, the first thing you say is that you are the real me. Why haven’t you spoken up
before?”
“I’ve been around for years,” replied the voice, “but this is the first time you’ve been quiet
enough to hear me.”
The knight was doubtful. “If you’re the real me, then, prey tell, who am I?”
The voice replied kindly, “You can’t expect to learn everything at once. Why don’t you get
some sleep.”
“All right,” said the knight, “but before I do, I want to know what to call you.”
“Call me?” asked the voice, puzzled. “Why, I’m you.”
“I can’t call you me. It confuses me.”
“OK. Call me Sam.”
“Why Sam?” asked the knight.
“Why not?” came the reply.
“You must know Merlin,” said the knight, his head beginning to droop from sleepiness. Then
his eyes closed as he fell into a deep, peaceful slumber.[...]
