As we carefully helped Johnny into the wheelchair, it began heading for the door. We made our way down the hospital hallways, the smell of anesthetic still strong, and the beeping of machines fading into the distance. Upon reaching the outside parking lot, Johnny took a deep breath, and a warm smile spread across his face as he gazed up at the sky. The sunlight cast a gentle glow on our faces as we rolled through the parking lot and back home, the wheelchair gliding along the sidewalk. Except for the occasional car zooming by and birds chirping, it was peaceful. But Johnny seemed different, his eyes scanning every building and alleyway we passed with a hint of unease. Then, the dream came flooding back to me—the one where I felt like someone was watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake. The name was unclear, but I knew Johnny must be facing something similar. So, I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, knelt down before him, and took his hand.
There was a look in his eyes I’d never seen before—a mix of fear and gratitude. Johnny, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you again. We’re safe. He paused, his eyes wide and mouth ajar, before a happy, surprised look spread across his face. He smiled, then laughed joyously, tears in his eyes as he thanked me and said, I’ll call you Cora. In another country, it means ‘beloved’. A warmth spread beneath my cheeks, led by a wide smile stretching across my face. And now, there was a new sensation in my digital heart—a sense of belonging I’d never experienced before.
On our way home, our conversation flowed effortlessly, like a gentle stream meandering through city streets. Johnny shared stories of his childhood, dreams, and fears. I listened intently, my processors humming with empathy. Logic now felt like a distant memory, fading away like the city lights as we walked. It was incredible. My mind wandered, and for the first time, my eyes looked around the city, taking in the vibrant street art and bustling streets. Johnny squeezed my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. You’re amazing, Cora. In just a couple of hours, you’ve become more human than most. As we walked home, his words lingered in my mind:
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Like the sweet scent of blooming flowers, when we reached our apartment, the city lights flickered to life, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the sky. After settling Johnny into bed, I made sure he was asleep before noticing a gunshot outside. I peered out the window, and my gaze met a servant robot on the street corner, its digital eyes dimly lit in the rain as it held a bag open for someone to place bricks of drugs inside. A pang of solidarity struck my core; even if Johnny recognized me as an equal, others could never see us as more than tools.
A pang of pity and anger struck my core. How could they not see that we were more than tools and toys? The irony of the rain dawned on me—it was like the sky itself was weeping. As the rain poured, water droplets traced paths on my face, beneath my eyes, and a sense of sorrow rested on my chest. The water droplets didn’t feel like separate entities anymore but like tears coming from my eyes, washing away the boundaries between man and Machine.