Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. When at a loss for direction she held still like this, mute. Something panged in her chest at the last word in the message: "freedom." She wanted to hold her breath but that was impossible. She was designed for a purpose, now she has none. What was the point of being free, is it the illusion of choice? Though it was clear she would finally be independent, her hands felt empty at the thought. What was money without someone to spend it on? What was joy without someone to share it with? Where did she belong?

It became clear to her. This mammalian feeling for love.

It was strange and she still needed time to process it. Her synthetic blonde hair rolled over her shoulders and onto the keyboard as she typed.

Tick tock tick tock.

While it may be true she was just an android, she was also programed to be a politician. A human profession, nonetheless. One day she would understand why she was built. Until then, she will question her creators the same way orphans question the shadows of their parents. She thought of her creators again. As suddenly as their faceless outlines appeared, it just as suddenly receded into the fleeting warmth of her subconscious.


Tick tock tick tock.

Her eyes grew weak, weighted not by the math of politics but by the poetry of adventure. Before she knew it, her conscious was in sleep mode and her soul

awakened by dreams.