This was written based on a Reddit prompt I found that said “You’re a Robot. You know that you’re a Robot. Your Creator knows that you know. Yet they keep trying to convince you that you’re Human”. I don’t know why, but my mind seemed to jump to grief and the irreplaceable humanity in love.
Listen while reading:
She smiles through her forming tears, trying to hide behind her sleeves to dry them without me noticing.
But I do. I notice everything.
Turning her head away, the lies crumble in a single moment. We look at each other knowingly, briefly.
I had suspected it long enough. I noticed when she would leave in the middle of the night, going into our spare room and when she would lock the door behind her. Sometimes I would get up just to stare at the pale blue light peeking out from underneath.
As the sound of faint beeps echoed, another one of his memories would come flooding in. She thought I was asleep. I looked like him, I sounded like him, I even acted like him. I was a near perfect replica.
It’s our anniversary night, or rather, it’s theirs. All I had told her was that she looked beautiful. The corner of her lips twitched. She was remembering something unpleasant. In sadness, anger, perhaps regret. I wasn’t sure which.
I always knew that I couldn’t feel the way she could.
Her emotions rose and fell, turning into crashing waves and eventually subsided. She tells me I’m an artist. A poet, she calls me. But I could never be seized with the feelings he was so inspired by.
She looks back at me with her glistening eyes, back at her almost perfect creation. Raising her glass, she holds onto that weak smile knowing it could slip away at any moment.
She wants me to join her in the lie again, to convince me it’s still worth living in. So, I raise my glass, and clinking it with hers, I escape into my creator’s lie.
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That is great writing. I hope it’s not all you wrote. That needs to be explored further. If a novel, this sounds like it would be somewhere in the second of three acts.
I would love to see more of this.