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Artificial

Short Story

By Mescaline BrissetPublished about a year ago 1 min read
Photo by Andrea De Santis on Unsplash

The dissonance rang in my ears every time I had to tell the difference between the sexes. Warming up won't help if you're already an automaton. You won't feel a thing.

They could function as a perpetuum mobile. Never tired, never thirsty. Never famished, never fractured. The only nourishment within their reach was electricity.

The lab was based in the Red Desert. Hard to get in, hard to get out. Animals may be the only ones sensing the trail.

We pulled it through without fully recognising the contents inside. Robots stacked like shelves in a library. Thousands of them. Like clones from a common sire.

We loaded them into the van and left. We knew no one would follow. We had our backs.

When we got to our lair, we unpacked the loot and plugged it into the power source. Nothing happened.

We tried again and again nothing. We tried many times until exhaustion took over the rules of the game.

Markus was the one who found the note attached to one of the manuals.

"Experimental phase. Follow the instructions before proceeding to the next level. Many thanks.”

In our case, there was no next level. There was a slump.

Microfiction

About the Creator

Mescaline Brisset

if it doesn't come bursting out of you

in spite of everything,

don't do it.

unless it comes unasked out of your

heart and your mind and your mouth

and your gut,

don't do it.

so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski

Find me on Medium

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Mescaline BrissetWritten by Mescaline Brisset

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