The line to the telescope seemed to be suspended in time, it felt like ferrying a glacier to a distant shore. Jake’s hand bounced impatiently in annoyance, he didn’t say a word the entire hour he waited. He just watched the back of the head of every student who ascended the stairs to peer through the lens of one of the most powerful telescopes on earth. When Jake finally reached the platform the ache in his side and the fatigue in his legs dissipated. For four minutes he was whole, pleasantly suspended in a cloud of reverence, he didn’t blink as he stared at the perfectly purple hued orb in the center of the lens. Overwhelmed, a tear streaked down his cheek. It wasn’t just the beauty of the planet that affected his mood, it was also in this momentous moment he felt his purpose. Then he heard Pembelton’s words, “we all know whose descendants won’t be there… it’s a really expensive trip.” A persistent shoulder tap roused Jake from his vision, and when it did his pain returned and his legs went weak. He wobbled back from the telescope and stumbled out of line.