“To be or not
to be, that is the question.”
Alex Trebek*
#quote
Today I went to
my card game thing and much fun was had. Anyway onto the flash
fiction!
Mind Surgery
I've often
wondered what human sleep was like. Did humans observe their minds in
sleep like we robots do? I know we both work with our memories and
minds in a “subconscious state”. But I feel very aware in my
sleep as I float like a ghost, limbless, in a white infinity where I
see the white replaced with things from my mind as I analyze and
record them for permanent memory and reorganization in my mechanical
brain. Maybe I've just been trying to find out what human dreams
compare to my own.
A gigantic
skateboard appeared below. I loved skateboards. They built me as an
advanced model with a body capable of using skateboards and I did all
kinds of tricks. I even requested that I have one with my name
“Benjamin” put on it along with an edgy design. Something strange
then happened. Large latex gloves appeared in my dreams with a
scalpel and began to cut up the board. What on Earth did that
represent? The gloves dropped the scalpel then sculpted and put
together the skateboard into the shape of a surfboard and pulled off
the wheels.
One of my
favorite things is surfing. I once even requested that I have one
with my name “Benjamin” put on it along with an edgy design.
What's with those strange gloves? Oh, they're gone. Human dreams can
be strange, robot dreams must be the same too.
Oh! A vision of
my room. My programmers let me keep all sorts of nice things as
decorations, they like seeing my tastes as one of the intelligent
A.I.s. All my posters and everything I choose to put in there. And I
even keep a name tag on the door. “Kyle” posted there right in
big font so people can tell me from the other machines. Strange, I
thought I saw those strange gloves around here again. Must be a
recurring dream thing, I read about those.
Next I saw my
best friend Ashley, a human programmer who spent her time with me.
One of the staff of the facility. Yup, Carol spent years of time
hanging out with me. The programmers hooked me up to the machine at
the end of the night so I could charge up and dream. They always
looked over me with a smile and a diagnostic laptop just in case
there's something wrong with my memory.
Gloves? No, I
haven't seen anything weird in my dream, just the usual strange white
abyss with things from my memories popping up.
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