300 Days of Writing
Day 2: Robots
Valerie tightened the screws on her toaster in a vain attempt to fix it. She wanted toast, with salty butter that melted into the cheap white bread.
“Damn it,” she said, as the screwdriver slipped in her sweaty palm. It was useless, the screws on the ancient invention were stripped. She threw the toaster at her I9-365 cursing the robot that had changed everything.
It wasn’t the robot’s fault, she knew that they weren’t sentient, no matter how good the programming got, she always reminded herself that they weren’t human. No amount of advertising could convince her of it.
Valerie grabbed an iced coffee from the fridge, touching it gently to her cheeks before cracking open the can. Condensation was already gathering on the can. The summer heat had become an insurmountable weight, pressing in, and the only time it was there was the one or two months of winter they had, but Valerie despised winter for its pollution. The coal, trash, and outdated robot parts that burned freely to fight back against the bitter wind always made her lungs hurt.
Another sip and the sugar and caffeine were waking her up. She stuffed her bra with fleshy silicone pads and took her hormone supplements. She tenderly felt her chest, wishing time could speed things up. But then again, time had sped up plenty fast enough for the world to change around her.
There was a knock at her door as she was doing her tuck. Giving her legs a little shake, she draped her skirt neatly over her thighs before looking through the peephole.
A badge covered the little window. “I9-640.” The iced coffee churned in her stomach. A human voice, tinged with a metallic sound came through the door.
“We have Orders 1920, 1880C. Please open the door.”
Valerie’s hand was sweating on the handle when the door was forced open for her.
Сайхан Бичээрэй!
H