“All the predictions about the coming machine apocalypse (Terminator, Matrix, Sex and the city) were correct [laughter]. Except it’s not because technology increased exponentially until it hit the singularity: the moment we crossed into Artificial Intelligence. That might actually be better as at least we would have to band together as a people and actually do something. It’s not Skynet that killed your family. It was Facebook. The dumbing down of humanities intelligence exponentially until all that remained were intentions and cropped pictures of a life we are in fact NOT leading. The more friends you rack up the less you actually have. The whole point of leaving home is to develop a real personality by making as many nonlethal mistakes as your body can handle as quickly as possible. Now we only go out to get better wi-fi. OMFG! My ear buds are in, so leave me be.”
You chuckle at that and crawl out of my bed. Naked you launder to the toilet. You half heartedly shut the door allowing it to creak to a halt slightly open as you softly landed your ass cheeks on the toilet. I always take that as a sign you feel safe. Open, guard down. Allowing me to see bodily functions can mean this and more. It could also mean you just don’t give a shit who sees you. The way you bend your knees and rest your arms on your thigh captivates me. You cock your head to see me watching and smile. Hair now falling slowly across your face. I’m in love but can never tell you.
Thats just how it is.
Your cell is ringing now and your smile fades. It’s not your cell of course but the pimps. The ‘company’ phone as you call it. Times up. Check in time with dispatcher. Next client.
Not surprising you are in high demand. And your clients pay well for the 2 hours of your presence. Presence? Are you really here with me? Or is your mind in anyplace but with me? Have you learned to crush the real in order to comply with every lonely creature and their deviant requests?
My insecurity grows and I look away to imagine myself as someone else. Someone you might actually care to run away with. To lay next to as morning rolls into evening and we have accomplished nothing but the exchange of fluids. Do you desire to hear me say I love you?
Your dressed now. You wiggle into your heels and pull your skirt down.
Across my naked body you run your hand and bent over, breasts swinging just beneath a loose fitting blouse, you tell me goodbye.
“Always fun N. Noticed a few new bruises. You can’t fight Pan and Nemesis forever. They will kill you.” Your right hand is making circles on my abs forcing them to contract.
A long moment. I try to tell you everything with my eyes. I pretend you hear me and you cry over my grave or whatever place marks my last known coordinates in my mini day dream.
The sound of your heels on my floor brings me out of the vision. Your Audi roars to life and your out of range quickly. The faint drums of whatever song your jamming to the last thing I hear.
Skynet won't have to invent roving killbots to finish off the species. They just have to wait and we'll forget how to breed. Or read potential mate's profiles and decide we don't want to.
N.
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