Close to sunrise I sat wide-awake listening to the rain bombard my home. Usually I find the sound soothing, but the irregular patter of water against what might have been sheet metal gave it a unique static resonance. As the rain beat harder, the static got louder and I could not help but think of all those rejected robots- homeless and rusting in the rain and humid air.
To be honest, the static may not have been merely a product of the rain. It seems to follow me wherever I go. The electronic hum and buzz persists to echo through the city, day and night.
Every corner has it’s own perverse version of a human lurking about. Robotics created in the image of mankind- machines which once held the potential to become worthy successors to the human race upon extinction.
Not any more.
I imagined water flowing over the cold steels and aluminums. Seeping between the joints, lubricating the fine engineering within. Frying it.
Do they fear their own mortality?
Emotional response must surely be limited at best. With no purpose for existence what need is there for emotion? Certainly if any have the capacity, their entire processes must be devoted ceaselessly to despising their makers. What cruelty to construct a soulless, meaningless consciousness with nothing to live for.  Perhaps in a better world they could’ve been put to use, but not now- not in this world.
Sitting dry, my discontent could not be quelled knowing these once glorious designs sat soaking outside.

Tomorrow I will try to help them…

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