I wait excitedly for the customer to come out, wondering what song I’m going to sing. I’ve already sung a couple but I want something new. I want to hear more of this weird and unusual noise that the people of this world view as music. I don’t know what to do though. The cat is still on top of me. I’m not sure if it’s sleeping or just lying there but it’ll need to move. Soon, the customer will come out and they won’t be able to open my lid with the cat on top.

I rock back and forth on my wheels, staring at the door. Should I say something to the cat to get it to move? What if it’s asleep and it doesn’t notice the customer approaching? Would the person be nice to them or would they be mean like the other man was before? I’m not sure but I don’t have a chance to worry about it anymore because the front door of number seven Church Road opens and the cat sits up. It looks around for a moment, yawning widely before jumping down.

I stare after it sadly, expecting it to walk away from me like it did last time but it doesn’t. Despite the sleet that is falling down on us, the cat stays near me. It rubs itself against the hard plastic of my body as the man approaches.

That gets my attention. I look up at him, trying to hold back my excitement as I see him pull out his phone. I’m going to sing! It’s about to happen!

“Stupid thing,” he mutters as he stomps towards me. “I’ve been waiting over an hour. An hour! I could walk to the shop and back ten times in that time.”

That doesn’t sound right. I know that I move slowly but surely he cannot be that fast. I mean, I have seen other humans moving quickly since I woke up and some were quicker than others but it still doesn’t feel right. Surely, it cannot be. It was a long journey. I know that I had to turn back and take a different route but even so, I thought I was quick.

He hits the button on his phone and excitement rushes through me as I feel myself preparing to sing. My lid opens and the music begins.

“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart,” I sing along to the cheerful noise. “But the very next day, you gave it away. This year, to save me from tears, I’ll give it to someone special.”

I’m thrilled. I love this song. It's so much better than the last one, that one was boring. Well, it was good, it just wasn't as good. But I don’t get to enjoy it for long. The man lifts the bag out of my compartment quickly and slams the lid shut, cutting off the music. I fight the urge to wail in disappointment as the sound stops.

Happiness decreased.

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Speed 1/10 Hope 3.7/10 Determination 6.9/10 Happiness 6.8/10 Pride 4.7/10 Battery 81%

I’m heartbroken. I wanted to hear more of the song but I only got a few lines, if that. I wanted to hear the whole thing and now, I might never.

“Voice, can I listen to that song? The man stopped it early but can you play it just for me?” I ask.

I already know what the answer will be but I need to ask, just in case.

“No, unfortunately, that is not possible,” the voice tells me.

I’m not sure if I am just being sensitive but it almost sounds sad. I think it wishes that it could play the rest of the song for me.

The man doesn’t even look at me again as he walks away, back into his house.

“Thank you for ordering with GroceRover,” I call sadly but the door shuts between us.

I don’t think he heard me. I have the fleeting impulse to say it again but much louder. Maybe he’ll hear me and respond then. I can’t though. It’s not right. I glance at the cat again, sadness radiating throughout me, before starting to turn. The cat waits until I’m pointing away from the house and pause to jump back on top of me. It sinks down, its face barely poking out of its paws, and stares into my camera.

I wish I knew what it was thinking or that I could communicate with it in some way. I’m not sure what we’d even have to say to each other but I still wish that I could. I’m just a robot though and it’s just a cat. Even if I could speak to it, it wouldn’t be able to speak back. I wouldn’t mind that too much though. It would be nice just to be able to speak to something.

I guess I can speak to the voice but it doesn’t really count. I mean, I don’t know what it is. It could be a human whose job it is to sit and wait for me to speak all day and then answer it when I do or it could just be a computer programme. The latter feels more likely. I mean, if it was a human, surely it would want to speak to me more. It would answer questions properly and not ignore me sometimes like it does when I ask a question it doesn’t want to answer. But… it still could be.

“Voice,” I start. “Are you human?”

There’s a pause and I start to lose hope that it will ever answer me until it suddenly speaks.

“I am an element of a programme created by GroceRover,” it tells me. “I am not human.”

Even though I expected that answer, disappointment rushes through me. I’m alone then. I can only speak to customers, who might be mean to me, and that nice man at the shop. As I think that, the cat begins to snore softly. The sound and vibrations echo through my lid and touch my microphone. Maybe I’m not completely alone.