The pavement passes under my wheels but it is far too slow. I glance at the number 1 next to my speed stat, trying to will myself to go faster but I’m doing the best I can. It’s not going up. All of my other stats have increased since I’ve been aware of them but speed hasn’t. I don’t know what I can do to make it go up though. I’m moving as fast as I can. I can feel my engine straining to keep up with how hard I’m already pushing it so I don’t know what would happen if I could go faster.

Would my engine be able to keep up? I worry that it wouldn’t and that the heat that it would put off might impact my cooling system. I can’t exactly deliver cold food to people that has been melted or cooked! That would be a disaster. It didn’t matter though. Until I somehow manage to increase my speed, I will just need to do my best.

“Robot!” I hear a child shout from somewhere behind me.

I want to stop but I can’t. I’ve done it before. A child shouted at me in delight and I stopped and turned towards them but the voice in my head chided me for it. Apparently, I’m only allowed to stop when a person or a child actually approaches me but, not until then. People shout, apparently. It’s normal. I was told that we need to seem like we aren’t listening to everything. That’s disturbing for humans.

I don’t remember that though. I can’t remember how I felt about robots when I was human. I wasn’t even sure if my world had robots.

A child appears in front of me and I stop suddenly, so as not to hit it.

“Daddy, it’s a robot!” the small human shouts, standing right in front of me and pointing at me.

I stare up at him, a strange pang of loneliness hitting me as I take in his huge yellow coat and wellies. They match. I wasn’t sure if I would dress my child in matching clothes if I had one but the thought makes me want to smile.

But I don’t have one. I’m a robot, nothing more.

“It is, darling,” another voice says.

His voice is older, gruffer, but it is filled with love for the child.

He appears behind his child and I stare up at him through my lens. His child is warmly dressed but he’s not. He’s wearing a jumper but no coat. His hands are jammed into his pockets, probably to keep them warm, and puffs of whiteness billow from his mouth as he breathes. It must be freezing out, his cheeks and nose are red.

“What’s he doing?” the child asks, still staring at me with awe-filled eyes.

“He’s delivering food to people,” the dad explains in an enthusiastic and patient voice. “Someone is very hungry so they’ve asked him to bring them something to eat!”

The kid’s eyes visibly widen.

“Wow,” he breathes. “He has food? Where?”

His dad reaches down and taps my lid gently.

“You see right here?” he asks, glancing back at his son to make sure he’s looking. “It opens up and people can put food inside.”

The kid reaches out and tries to open my lid but his mitten-covered hands scrabble against my cold plastic. He doesn’t even manage to grip the edge of my lid before his dad gently moves his hands away.

“I want to see!” the kid whines.

“You can’t!” the dad explains, his tone still perfectly patient. “It’s not our food so we can’t open it.”

The kid leans back, examining me with curious eyes.

“Can we ask the robot to bring us some food later?” he asks.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“We’ll see what your mom has to say about that,” his dad says, reaching down and taking his hand. “Shall we let the robot keep going? Someone is waiting for their lunch! ”

The child sends me one last longing look before nodding and stepping out of the way.

“Okay,” he says reluctantly.

“What do we say to the robot?”

“Bye bye, robot. I love you,” the child says sadly.

I wish that I could reply to him. I know that it’s against my programming and that I shouldn’t but I want to. He’s not helped me out in any way and I’m not asking for help so technically, I’m not meant to talk to him but I pull up my list of phrases and start cycling through them.

“Goodbye!” I say as I start to move past them.

The child gasps.

“Daddy, he can speak!” I hear him say and I glance back to see him staring at me again, ignoring his father pulling on his hand to try and get him to move again.

Happiness increased.

Speed 1/10 Hope 3/10 Determination 3.5/10 Happiness 4/10 Pride 3/10 Battery 97%

“Please remember that you are not allowed to speak to humans unless you are asking for help, thanking them for helping you, receiving an order or delivering an order,” the voice in my head tells me.

I’m still basking in the aftermath of happiness though that I don’t even care about being told off. I don’t really get it. Why shouldn’t I be able to speak to a human if they talk to me? I mean, the explanation feels silly. Humans aren’t necessarily creeped out by robots and does it really matter? I think that we should be able to talk to them if they talk to us.

It almost doesn’t matter though because I know that nothing will change. The voice will continue telling me off if I do speak to them out of turn and I will probably continue to do so. I mean, I barely get to speak to anyone. Somedays, no one orders one of us to come and deliver their food so I just sleep the day away on my charging dock. That’s not too bad but I don’t like it. I like having people to talk to, people who want to talk to me.

The pavement under my wheels changes as I approach the first set of traffic lights. My programming dictates that I should only cross if there are no cars within view or if the light is red. I glance up at the light. It is not red. It’s green. There’s a car in the distance but it is so far away. Maybe I can get to the other side of the road before it gets to me. I need to at least try. Someone is waiting for food and toilet paper, it must be an emergency.

Preparing my engines, I burst forwards, avoiding the pothole in the road.

“Please note, a car is approaching,” the voice tells me but I ignore it, pushing myself to move even faster.

I glance at the pathetic number 1 denoting my speed before looking through the camera on the side of me. The car has moved closer. It’s travelling a lot faster than I expected, it must have sped up.

That makes panic surge within me and I push my engines to move faster, knowing that if the car hits me, I will not survive.

The road is riddled with potholes and I’m trying my best to avoid them whilst keeping an eye on the ever-approaching car but I can’t do both at once. My wheel hits a pothole and I come to a sudden stop. I can’t get out of it. I’m stranded in the middle of the road, one wheel caught in the hole.

“You are stuck, please call for assistance,” the voice tells me.

My panic turns into terror as I stare at the car again. It’s too close and I know that it won’t stop. I need to get out on my own. There are no people around, they won’t be able to help me in time. I push all of my power into my other three wheels, my engine burning so hot that I’m worried about it. I try as hard as I can and for a moment, I think that it won’t be enough, but somehow, it works. I’m free of the pothole! I rush forwards, reaching the other side of the road just in time for the car to speed past me.

Determination increased, happiness decreased.

Speed 1/10 Hope 3/10 Determination 4/10 Happiness 3.5/10 Pride 3/10 Battery 97%