robotlearnstolove

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-06-27

Koma is Broken

~480 words

Under a pale, clear sky, bathed in radiant sunlight, the Wildwood teemed with life around them, from the chirp and chatter of small animals to the rustle and whistle of leaves in the breeze. Paraé sat on the ground with her legs comfortably sprawled outward and her back resting against the thick trunk of a tree while Jamelle sat straight up on one of the wooden camp chairs, still reluctant to sit directly on the ground. They’d been facing one another for the better part of the past hour, each engaged in their own private meditation, both avoiding the the difficult conversation they’d been on the brink of having since the day Jamelle had caught up with Paraé. Silver had made himself scarce once again —another foraging expedition — likely, for no other reason than to give them some time alone together.

As she let herself connect with her feelings, Paraé found that was mostly happy to have Jamelle back in her life. Four times — she couldn’t help but keep count — their eyes had met and Jamelle had looked as though she wanted to say something and Paraé had wanted to say something too. But when the moment passed with both of them quietly looking away.

There was a hint of disdain in the way Jamelle looked down at her, a sort of pity. Paraé understood. She still couldn’t help but think of herself that way sometimes too. There was no getting around. Her upbringing, her education, her culture all unambiguously labelled her a betrayer of the Mountain.

“I’m trying hard to forgive you,” said Jamelle, looking Paraé in the eyes for the fifth time. “I want to understand. What you have done— What no Koman has ever done.”

“I don’t know how to explain it,” said Paraé. “I’ve had this feeling my whole life.” Her eyes stung with welling tears. This was the moment that could tear them apart forever. In her imagination, she could see Jamelle, cool and composed, draw her sword and run it straight through Paraé’s chest.

“What feeling?”

“Koma is broken.” The words spilled out of her like a broken dam and she closed her eyes, ready to die.

After the feeling of an eternity passed and nothing happened, Paraé opened her eyes.

Jamelle hadn’t moved. She just looked disappointed. “What do you mean broken?”

“Our society isn’t working. We are only surviving down there. But we aren’t doing it for ourselves. It’s a prison. A trap.”

“When the world died, the Mountain kept us alive.”

Jamelle’s recitation of the prayer sparked a fire in Paraé. She stood up, over Jamelle. “The world didn’t die, Jamelle,” she shouted. “Look around. It burned but it didn’t die. And now, it thrives around us. Without us.”

“How did you know?” asked Jamelle, unfazed. “How did you know that there would be life up here?”

“I didn’t”

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-06-26

Borrow a Pen

~690 words

When Tobin walked into the classroom, he found it to be even emptier than usual. He was used to being the first to arrive but today, even Mr. Gillam there yet. He sat down at his usual desk, unpacked his backpack and set up his effects — notebook, textbooks, different coloured pens, pencils and highlighters — just the way he liked them. Then, he sat back and waited.

Within a couple of minutes, other students began trickling in and taking their seats. Over time, small groups formed and talked amongst themselves. No one spoke to Tobin and, in turn, he ignored them. Instead, he focused his attention on the whiteboard. Notes, equations and diagrams — presumably from the twelfth grade class as none of them were at all familiar to him — were haphazardly written all over it. He recognized Mr. Gillam’s slanted scrawl, in particular the way he drew x variables as two butting curved lines.

Two minutes or so before the bell was set to ring, Patsy breezed through the doorway, her arms laden with so many books, binders and loose papers that it looked as though she was about to drop all of it onto the ground at any second. Her backpack — hung off one shoulder and completely unzipped — also appeared to be on the brink of spilling its contents. Either miraculously or by some unapparent aptitude, she made her way to the desk in front of Tobin, sat on the chair and flopped her entire armload onto the desk while simultaneously sliding the backpack off her shoulder and onto the ground. Nonchalant, she turned toward him.

“Tobin. This is physics right?” She asked the question sincerely.

Tobin blinked. “We’re two months into the semester.”

Patsy frowned. “Stop being your usual dickish self and just answer me. I’ve got like a minute to get myself organized.”

“Physics, yeah,” Tobin mumbled. “With Mr. Gillam.”

“Thank you,” said Patsy as she hastily turned back toward her desk.

Tobin peered over her shoulder as she “organized” the teetering pile on her desk in a frenzied manner. Unceremoniously, she threw books and notepads into her open backpack and stuffed wrinkled sheets of paper into binders before dropping the binders themselves into the bag as well. To his surprise, by the time Mr. Gillam walked into the the room, she had just managed to close the now-bulging bag and slide it under her chair. She sat up straight with nothing except her physics textbook and a blank notepad both open on the desk in front of her. Moments later, the bell rang.

“Good morning class,” said Mr. Gillam in his usual, flat tone. “Let’s pick up where we left off yesterday.”

He didn’t waste any time. While he erased everything on the board, he launched right into his continuing lecture on kinetics. As soon as he started talking all the students in the class went silent; everyone knew what would happen if they got caught talking during the lecture. When he was done erasing, he began scribbling new notes, new equations and drawing new diagrams on the board in that same haphazard way. The whole time he lectured, he kept his back to the class.

Tobin was focused; this was one of his favourite subjects. He took detailed notes, colour-coded according to his own system. He was so absorbed that when Patsy suddenly turned toward him and waved a hand in front of his face, he nearly jumped out of his seat. He stared at her for a moment and mouthed “What?”

Patsy pointed a finger at his neat row of pens.

Again, Tobin stared at her and, after a few seconds, he realized that she wanted to borrow one of them. He shook his head vigorously. He didn’t have a spare pen. He needed all these colours. Nervously, he glanced toward Mr. Gillam but the teacher still hadn’t turned toward the class once since he’d entered the room.

Clearly offended, Patsy raised her middle finger at him and spun back toward the white board.

Tobin felt bad. He wanted to help her but he also needed to keep his notes organized and consistent.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-06-23

Untitled

←3 4 5→

~290 words

Teele’s eyes went even wider. “Terash! You— You almost—” She sobbed once and looks away.

Even if she didn’t say it, Terash knew what she meant although he had no idea how to respond. He thought about what had happened and found that he could only remember it in flashes. The child. The cart. The crowd parting. His aura. The incredible amount of power he’d exerted.

A tense silence stretched between them for about a minute until Teele finally turned back toward him. “What happened? You’ve been unconscious for three days. People say you stepped in front of a full four-wheel cart and that you — but you couldn’t — you’re just not—” Her gaze met his with a quiver.

Still, Terash’s mind had trouble making connections. He thought he understood what she was saying but his memory could only show him flashes of what had happened. The details in between eluded him. He’d left the apartment in the morning. Had it been morning when it had happened? Or had he been on his way back from the Towers? Perhaps it was the pain that clouded the thought or else —

“Did you say three days?” he asked as he finally processed what Teele had said.

Teele nodded.

“Three days,” he repeated, incredulous. It couldn’t have been that long. He could still hear the sound of the cart crashing into his projected self. The shock it had sent through his body still felt so close, so visceral. He remembered the jets of brine as they shot into the air and the child, cowering in front of him.

It was only then that the obvious question occurred to Terash. He sat straight up. “What happened to the kid?”

more, please→

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-06-18

Morning Stitches

~490 words

The stone bench was still a little damp from the rain that had fallen overnight but Tressa didn’t care. The morning air was already getting warm and she was feeling overheated from the two or so kilometre uphill hike from her apartment to the park. She relished the shade and the cold. She reached into her bag and took out her knitting project — the first of a pair of socks — and, after checking that nothing had come undone in transit, she resumed her work.

She knitted in tranquility for at least thirty minutes. She listened to the gurgle of the nearby stream and the birds that moved from tree to tree overhead. There wasn’t much of a breeze this morning and so she really noticed the steady rise in heat and humidity as she sat.

“The bench is wet,” said Sunshine as soon as she arrived. She ran her hand along the seat of the bench and gingerly sat next to Tressa.

Tressa didn’t look up from her knitting. “Barely.”

“Why do you always pick the wet spots?”

“I like to sit in the shade.”

“Well, I don’t like having a soggy ass.”

Their banter petered out as Sunshine pulled out her own project — a crocheted blanket — and began working on it. They both worked in silence, each focused on their own stitches. Tressa still listened to the sounds of nature around them.

“Yeah, it’s not as wet as I thought it was,” Sunshine admitted after fifteen or twenty minutes.

“Told ya!” Tressa exclaimed triumphantly. “How’s Carl?”

“Tired.”

As they stitched, the two of them chatted idly for the rest of the morning and covered just about all of the usual topics. They updated one another about their respective boyfriends and kids. Sunshine complained about how the busses running late. Tressa made a mistake in her knitting and grumbled aloud as she unpicked and reknit several rows. Sunshine reminisced fondly about the last time her cousin had come to visit. Tressa told Sunshine about the new restaurant near her apartment.

When it got close to noon — Tressa had checked her watch every half-hour or so — she stood up and carefully packed up her knitting. “I gotta go. Gotta pick up Frankie from daycare soon.”

“What time is it?” asked Sunshine.

“Almost noon.”

“I’ll probably stay a bit longer.” Sunshine put down her project and stepped forward for a quick hug.

“Good seeing you,” said Tressa as they pulled apart. “Same time tomorrow?”

“I’ll be late so you start without me.”

“No problem.”

As soon as she stepped into direct sunlight and started walking back down the hill, Tressa felt herself get sweaty all over. While they’d sat idly in the shade, it had gotten much hotter out. She couldn’t afford to slow down so she set her thoughts on the air-conditioning that awaited her back home, hoping that Bobby hadn’t forgotten to turn it on again before he left for work.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-30

Untitled

←2 3 4→

~480 words

Sometimes they seemed close by and, at others, farther away. He might very well have been dreaming them. He felt as though pain in his head prevented him from falling completely asleep but, at the same time, he also never felt completely awake. Many of them sounded familiar but he could never quite make out what they were saying.

More time passed as his mind wavered over the line between conscious and unconscious. He didn’t try to move; it didn’t even occur to him that he was able to move.

“Ash.” There weren’t many people who still called him that way. The sound of his name sent a flutter of emotion through his chest.

“Wake up, Ash.” It was definitely a familiar voice.

Again, when they said his name, he felt an elusive warmth blossom in him. They spoke softly, almost a whisper. They were very close by, perhaps sitting next to the bed or even on it. An eternity passed as he waited for them to speak again. The pain behind his eyes radiated through his whole head and down his neck.

“You’re dehydrated.”

She was right. As soon as she said it, he realized how dry his lips, tongue and throat felt.

“I’ve got some water for you, Ash.”

For a third time, the sound of his name shot through him like a hot beverage and, finally, he opened his eyes. It took a while before he could focus his gaze. The first sight to emerge from the blur was her hair, short and neatly styled. Next, it was her eyes, wide with concern. Was it for him?

He tried to speak, just to say her name but, instead, he started coughing.

An arm — it had to be Teele’s arm — wrapped around his upper back and pulled him upward. “Come on. Let’s sit you up.” Her voice was so close — right next to his ear.

As Teele, held him upright, Terash continued to wheeze. All the movement sent throbs of pain from his head into his whole body. He was sore everywhere and he could hardly breathe. He felt the something cool and smooth against his lips — a cup. Water. Between coughs, he took a minuscule sip. Then, another. As the water wet his mouth, the coughing subdued and he could drink a little more. His stomach churned with nausea.

When he finally managed to get his breath steady again, he opened his eyes again. His vision was almost back to normal. Pure sunlight streamed in abundantly from an open window. He wasn’t in his room. He didn’t know where he was. Next to him, just barely seated on the edge of the bed, Teele bubbled nervously. Her fingers and eyes fidgeted.

“Teele.” Terash managed a week smile.

“Ash.” Teele didn’t look like she was able to smile at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” asked Terash.

keep reading→

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-26

Untitled

←1 2 3→

~560 words

Suddenly, he felt something grab his leg. For a moment, he tensed up but, when he looked downward, he breathed in relief. The child had wrapped their bony arms around his thigh. He didn’t know how someone so small and frail could take hold so tightly? He hadn’t spent a lot of time around children but he guessed that they didn’t look to be much older than seven or eight. He reached down, found their hand and took hold of it. Their fingers were icy against his. They squeezed his hand as tightly as his leg. He wanted to lead them to safety but he quickly realized that he didn’t have the strength.

For a couple of seconds, his vision blurred and darkened. His stamina was draining quickly. Even though the cart was stationary, it still sat on an incline and its weight — hundreds of kilograms — pressed precariously against the force of his aura. If he let go of it, the wreck would certainly slide or fall forward. His sight darkened again and, this time, his knees buckled slightly as well. He let go of the child’s hand and put out his arms, feeling as though he might fall over at any moment.

“Someone,” he called out laboriously, his voice wavering. “Please. Help.”

Two strangers rushed forward at the same time. They both wore perplexed expressions.

“The child,” said Terash.

One of them took the child by the hand. It took some time and gentle encouragement to pry them off of Terash’s leg.

“The cart,” Terash gasped as he fell to his knees. “Can’t hold.” He had never held his aura at this strength for this long before. He was beyond his limit and he had no conscious grasp over his intent.

The second helper, still looking amiss, went to the cart and began pushing against it. Of course, it didn’t budge a millimetre but, luckily, their action seemed to inspire several other members of the gathered crowd into action. Soon, there were at least a dozen more lending their strength to the cause and several more still running in after them. A couple people rushed up to Terash and pulled his arms over their shoulders to keep him upright.

As the cart began to move away from him, he felt the burden of it lift from his mind. As carefully as he could manage, he let go of his push on the cart and reeled in his aura. His body relaxed completely, his eyes closed and he fell into the strangers who were supporting him. He felt them carry him to the side of the road. His body was completely limp. He felt the heels of his shoes drag against the stone pavement and everything went dark.

For a long time, he was alone in the dark. The only thing he could feel was an ever-growing headache; the rest of his body might as well have disappeared entirely.

When he woke, the headache was still there and still getting worse. He could still barely feel his body, but he could tell that he was lying on a bed, under blankets with a thick pillow. Was he in his own bed? He didn’t open his eyes; he was worried that any amount of light would just worsen the pain. He thought he could hear some voices nearby.

suite→

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-24

Untitled

1 2→

~470 words

Alarm moved through the throng in ripples. At first, it was just murmurs of concern but, in its wake a hush of terror fell over the street. In that hush, the sound of the runaway cart caught Terash’s attention and he turned toward it. As it barrelled downhill, people leapt out of its path, forming a rift in the crowd. Then, he saw the child standing in the middle of the street, looking right toward it and showing no sign that they were going to move out of its way. They were just a few metres away from him. Shouts and screams broke out all around him as more and more eyes were drawn to the unfolding catastrophe. Without a thought, he sprinted forward, halted directly behind the child and turned to face the cart that now rolled toward him as well.

Less than a metre from the cowering child, the cart stopped, as though it had hit an invisible wall. The wood of the frame cracked and splintered. The impacted barrels buckled and burst. Jets of liquid shot upward while wood chips scattered everywhere. The rear axle gave out entirely and the whole thing tipped over. As the splash of brine rained onto the street, the whole wreck came to a grinding halt.

Terash could hardly believe what he’d done; he’d never reacted this way before. His aura had burst out of him at full strength. Every safeguard, every precaution he’d been taught had been pushed aside the moment he’d seen the helpless child. There had been no deliberation, no consideration of his intent, barely a thought as to what must be done. It wasn’t like him at all.

He was also surprised by the strength of his aura. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d been expecting when he’d stepped into the path of the runaway cart but, at least in hindsight, it was certainly a shock to him that he’d managed to stop it at all. The feeling was more intense than anything he’d ever experienced before. He hadn’t pushed out very far but, if he focused his attention on the space around him, he could feel the movement of the air around him, his own breath and the breath of the child.

To keep himself from dwelling on this strangeness, he moved his attention to the scene around him. The crowd had gone almost completely silent save for the occasional whisper or murmur. While there were still a few people pushing their way past, a crowded circle was forming around him with many newcomers still joining. The looks on their faces counted every conceivable reaction. Some looked at him with confusion, or awe. Others wore expressions of horror or even terror. One or two looked at him with a sort of reverence.

part 2→

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-15

Trust

~510 words

Gripped with dread, Dierre pressed her back into the smooth stone wall. She was sure this alley hadn’t been a dead end last week. Her heart pounded and one hand clenched something. She glanced downward, and was almost surprised to see that she was still holding the cloth bag. What use was it to her now?

At least Dig was safe, she thought, for now, at least. In the moment it was the only hopeful shred she had to hold onto.

She stared at the guard’s boots as they steadily stepped toward her. When they were a metre away, she forced herself to look upward. They were so tall. Why did she have to be so small? When she finally saw the face that towered above her, Dierre was so surprised, for a second, she wasn’t afraid anymore.

The guard looked just as scared as she felt. They were breathing heavily and kept glancing back toward the alley entrance as though worried someone else might come along.

Dierre eased just a little. She’d never thought before about whether the guards even had feelings — she hadn’t even really been thinking of them as people. They way mother and father had spoken of them, they’d seemed like monsters.

Their eyes met. “Go,” said the guard. “Run. Hide.” They stepped to one side, leaving the a clear path out of the alley.

Dierre didn’t move. They were still standing in the middle of the alley. It had to be a trap.

“I can’t do it,” said the guard. “I saw you steal. I can’t put a child in jail.”

Still, Dierre kept her back against the wall.

“You can keep the food. I don’t think anyone else saw anything. And if they did, I’ll tell them you got away from me.”

Dierre didn’t budge but she could already feel her thoughts toward them softening and she felt mad at herself for wanting to believe them. Things would be so much easier for her if there was someone out there she could trust but she could never allow herself to trust a guard — someone who was so much bigger than her and who carried a sword.

The guard now wore a pleading expression, as though they’d said all they could and Dierre, going against her own instinct of self-preservation, made up her mind.

With her back still against the wall and one hand still gripping the bag of fruit, she crept her way along it and around the corner. She used her open palm to feel the way. Full of her own heartbeat, she kept her eyes locked with the guard’s.

It took one eternity for her to make it past them and another for her to make it to the edge of the alley but she did. And when she did, she bolted without hesitation.

As she ran away, she almost thought she heard the guard say “good luck” behind her but she wasn’t sure. She carried only a single thought as she went: to get back to her sister and share the day’s bounty with her.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-10

Perfect Muffins

~520 words

When the timer sounded, Jerad took the muffins out of the oven, placing the pans one by one on the glass stove top. By the time he got to the fourth pan, he could, just barely, feel the heat seeping through the oven mitts. He tossed them onto the opposite counter and inspected the muffins.

He started by poking a few of them with a toothpick. Then, satisfied that they were cooked through he gently ran his finger over one of them. It had a thin, caramelized crust, slightly sticky without being dry. He would have to wait until they cooled to know for sure but it was possible that this was the best batch he’d made so far.

Jeana walked into the kitchen with tired looking eyes, dressed in her pyjamas and her hair still wet from the shower. “Smells like cake.”

“Bran muffins,” said Jerad excitedly. “They’re still hot.”

Jeana stared at the muffins with a blank expression. She blinked. “There’s a lot of them.”

“I think I’ve perfected the recipe this time. Salt went down by one gram. A little more molasses. They’ve got that perfect micro-crust on top. Went ten degrees lower on the oven temp so they’re not too browned. What is it?”

Jeana was staring blankly at him, her mouth slightly agape. For a moment, Jerad thought she looked like she was going to burst out laughing. Finally, she said, “That still doesn’t explain why you maid forty-six of them.”

“Forty-eight.”

“What?”

“Four dozen is forty-eight.”

“Close enough. Answer the question.”

“You didn’t ask me a question.”

Jeana closed her eyes and sighed. She still looked tired to him. Jerad turned back to look over his muffins — his perfect muffins. He brought his face close to them and breathed deeply, taking in the thick, malty aromas of caramel, molasses, toasted wheat.

“In about six minutes,” he said after a glance at the clock, “I’ll put them on the cooling rack and about eight minutes after that, you can try one. It’ll still be a little hot to eat but it’ll have cooled enough that you can cut it in half and spread a little butter on it.”

When he didn’t hear a response from Jeana, he looked up and was surprised to see that she wasn’t there. She’d probably gone upstairs. Maybe she was having a nap. Maybe he’d leave a muffin on the bedside table for her to find when she woke up.

Jerad checked the clock again at set the oven timer for five minutes. While he waited, filled the sink with hot, soapy water, rinsed the mixer bowl and paddle in it and loaded them and a few other things into the dishwasher. Then, he washed a few more things by hand. When the oven beeped, he loaded moved the muffins to the cooling rack one at a time. They had cooled enough that he could just handle them with his bare hands. He set aside two muffins. The ugliest, he put onto a plate for himself while the most symmetrical of the batch was set aside for Jeana.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-05-02

The Wilds

~510 words

The sun hadn’t returned yet but, when the open sky began to brighten, Paraé jumped out of a light and troubled sleep, startled once again by the unfamiliarity all around her. The way the air moved over her throughout the dark span and the sounds it made were still too strange for her mind to shuffle off. She longed for the quiet stillness of her room and, despite herself, the shelter of a stone ceiling overhead. She didn’t regret leaving Koma nor did she want to go back but she missed those things which had been so familiar or mundane that she could only miss them in absence.

She spent a long time staring up at the expanse of emptiness above her while feeling so incredibly small. The sky became brighter and brighter and the stars started to disappear, one by one. Dark and nebulous shapes streaked across it like shadows emerging from the darkness. Under her thin woven blanket she was, just barely, warm enough but she knew that as soon as she got out from under it, as soon as she came out from the sheltered rut in which she’d huddled, she would feel the sting of the wind. All of these things that had been hidden from her.

When the sun finally rose — just a sliver of light at the edge of sky — so did she. She threw off the blanket, stood up and immediately felt the the bite of the wind against her face. It was exactly what she’d expected, like a plunge into cold water. Feeling awake and full of life and also, she quickly realized, hungry, she folded her blanket and crouched next to her pack.

Her heart sank when she checked her bag of smoked fish. How many days had it been? She was going through it faster than she’d expected. She was going to have to find something to eat out here soon. Resigned, she picked a few small pieces out of the bag — half her usual morning portion — and ate them slowly. While she ate, she drank the rest of the water she had. Then, she repacked her bag, stopped at the nearby stream to fill her bladder and resumed her travel.

The sun was now fully in the sky, a pale yellow circle that made the world brighter then anything she could have ever imagined before leaving. It no longer hurt her eyes unless she looked directly at it. The ground underneath was flat and rocky with small green and yellow plants growing here and there, all of which looked too dry and rugged to eat. She kept an eye out for small animals too — like the hairy white creature she’d seen on her first day out — but nothing appeared. The sound of her footsteps was likely scaring them away before she could spot them. Likewise, none of the streams or small rivers she encountered seemed to have any fish. As the day wore on, a dark thought was beginning to take hold in her mind. She was going to die out here.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-28

Restless

~430 words

Dawn held up the remote, turned off the TV and quickly turned toward Gus to see if he’d noticed. When she saw that he was still sleeping, she gave a satisfied nod and left the room. He looked comfortable enough, propped up on the couch with a blanket over his legs. She wanted to pick him up, carry him back to his room, tuck him into his little bed but she knew that, if she did, he would immediately wake up.

She went to the kitchen and sat at the table across from Maya, who was still hunched over her laptop, typing incredibly fast.

“He’s sleeping,” said Dawn. She put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands.

“About time,” said Maya without looking up from the screen or slowing down her typing.

Neither of them spoke. Except for the sound of the laptop keyboard, the apartment was quiet. No TV, no high-pitched screaming, no toy cars crashing into the baseboards and no tiny footsteps running through the halls. Before Gus, she’d never really appreciated the quiet moments like this.

She stared at Maya with the secret wish that she would look up from her work and and stare back but, as always, she was far too absorbed in her work. Dawn admired her wife’s ability to keep her focus so completely singular, even when she and Gus were home. She also knew better than to try and steal that focus away from the writing; she’d been yelled at often enough.

Eventually, when the temptation to interrupt became too much, Dawn got up from the table and left the kitchen. She tiptoed back to the edge of the living room to peek in on Gus who was still sleeping, still propped up with his head tilted to one side. She stared at him for nearly a minute until, once again, she felt the urge to interrupt, to go and wake him. With a deep sigh, she walked away from the living room, past the kitchen where Maya was still typing away and all the way the the opposite end of the apartment. For a few minutes, she stood in the bathroom with her hands pressed against the edges of sink and stared at herself in the mirror. Then she went to the master bedroom, rearranged the bedding, picked up a sock that was on the floor and tossed it into the laundry basket. She tried sitting on the edge of the bed but soon found herself lying on it, perpendicularly. She stared at the ceiling.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-25

Hiding Place

~600 words

Frey followed Norin closely. He knew these woods and she didn’t. They moved at a pressing run, not as fast as they possibly could, but close. Every so often, they would come to a fork in the trail and he would take one direction or another without hesitation. Left. Right. Right. She tried her best to keep track of the turns. Her left leg was starting to get numb. She wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to keep it up. She wasn’t even sure if they were still being chased.

All of a sudden, Norin stopped, turned around and grabbed her by the arm.

“Wha—” she exclaimed in surprise.

Norin’s eyes were wide. He put a finger on his mouth and pulled her off the trail. She let him guide her. They went ten metres straight into the bush and then turned. It got thicker the further they went. Branches scratched at her face. They weren’t running anymore but Norin still pulled her along at a steady pace. Another ten metres or so and they turned again. Then, a third time. Where was he taking her?

He stopped again and let go of her arm. Only when he released his grip did Frey realize how tightly he’d been holding her. He crouched low and felt his way through the moss. After a few moments, he dug his finger in and pulled upward with all his strength. A large trap door hinged upward. Underneath it was a shallow, earthy hole in the ground.

“Get in,” Norin hissed.

Frey stared at him and then at the dark hole in the ground. She wasn’t convinced that there would be room for the two of them down there.

“Frey!” he whispered.

She looked into his eyes and, when she saw how visibly shaken he was, she didn’t hesitate. She let herself fall onto her hands and knees and sank a little into the damp and spongy moss as she did. Feet first, she crawled into the hole. Before she was even all the way in, Norin was backing in next to her with his thigh pressing against her shoulder. Her feet touched the dirt at the edge of the hole and she tucked her legs under herself to fit into the space. Once she was fully tucked and he was halfway in, Norin pulled down the lid and let it slide closed over him.

They sat completely still for some time, tightly pressed against one another. She could feel his heart beat. The only sound was their breaths, faster and heavier at first but quickly slowing. Frey had to admit that it wasn’t quite as small and certainly not as dark as she’d expected. The lid that had closed over them was made of woven branches and covered with live moss and leafy vines but there were many places where the light pierced the disguised forest floor. At least they wouldn’t suffocate.

Norin was the first to break the silence. “I don’t think they followed off the path.” His voice sounded more relaxed now that they were hidden.

“Did you make this?” Frey whispered.

“Uncle.”

“That makes sense.”

“He’s made hundreds. I’m sure I don’t even know about most.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Their exchange trailed off. Frey wondered how long he would want to wait down here. There was still no sign of their pursuers. Above them, a wind picked up through the trees and she wished that she could be up there to feel it. It was getting hot with the two of them squeezed into that small hole and her leg was still feeling numb.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-22

Old Second Street

~310 words

Old Second Street was as crowded ever as Terash and Teele went from shop to shop, passing the time until their dinner reservation. Between them, they had a handful of marks they could spend if they felt so inclined but, so far, nothing had caught their eye. Terash felt an appreciation for the ambience and character of these Old-City wooden buildings, especially compared to the stone and plaster constructions in the newer parts of the city. The shops themselves weren’t nearly as crowded as the street and so it always was a bit of reprieve to be inside.

At present, they were in the shop of a renowned local potter and on the table in front of them sat a table full of colourfully glazed plates and bowls. Terash laughed to himself when he saw how expensive they were. His parents had very similar dishes back on the farm but, here in the city, these sorts of rustic wares had become trendy and were being sold as a luxury. Bright, full sunlight shone in from the tall windows at the front and bathed the whole room in uplifting glow. He loved browsing through places like this where there was no pressure or need to buy anything. As far as he was concerned, this was his favourite way to spend an afternoon with Teele but he couldn't help but notice that she didn’t seem to be enjoying herself at all.

She wasn’t talking or laughing as much as usual. When he talked to her or asked a question, her responses were often short, terse even. When she looked toward him, he could sense her gaze was unfocused, as thought she was looking straight through him or over his shoulder at something behind him. Terash knew there was something on her mind and, knowing Teele, there was a chance she hadn’t yet figured out what it was.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-20

Marsha

~610 words

Sitting on the front steps, Darius took a sip of his tea. Already, the tumbler felt like is was only half full. He checked the time on his phone. It was getting late. It wasn’t that unusual for Marsha to be this late but he still couldn’t help but worry a little.

If she’s not here in ten minutes, he thought, I’ll call her.

For the next ten minutes, he watched cars pass in front of his house and, every time he saw a white one, he perked up, thinking it might be her. He got his phone out again and brought up her number. He hesitated and thought about how annoyed she was going to be; she didn’t like receiving calls, especially when she was running late. He looked up and, to his relief, her car was just slowing down. She smiled and waved at him as he shoved his phone into his pocket and made his way to the passenger seat.

“Sorry,” said Marsha as he buckled his seat belt. “There was a huge line up at the wine store and then I got a call about my Amazon getting hacked and that caused me to take a wrong turn on the ninety-six and then I had to go through Elm Park to get here which is a whole other thing, you know. But how are you doing?”

Darius bit his lip — he had been waiting for her for over forty-five minutes, after all — but he knew better than to complain to her. “I’m good,” he said plainly.

They started driving away. “Sorry again for keeping you waiting,” said Marsha. “Do you want to stop for ice cream?”

“I, ah,” Darius stammered, taken aback. “I’m good. Thanks.”

“Okay,” said Marsha. Then after a short pause, she continued. Do you mind if we stop at Sweet Tops? They won’t be busy. I just really want a small cone. Please? It won’t take long.”

Darius shrugged. “I mean, you’re driving.”

“You don’t mind?”

“I guess not.” What choice did he have?

To Darius’s surprise, she had been right about it not being busy. He waited in the car while she went into the strip-mall ice cream shop. “You sure you don’t want anything?” she had asked as she left. He’d declined. Four minutes later, she was back in the car and they were driving back across the parking lot.

“You want me to hold anything for you?” asked Darius as he watched her steer one-handed whilst also biting off the tip of her soft-serve cone.

“Yeah. Actually. Um. Hold these napkins for me,” Marsha replied as she momentarily held the wheel straight with the wrist of her cone-laden hand and reached over to drop a tightly crumpled wad of napkins into Darius’s lap. He hadn’t even realized she’d been holding them the whole time in her “free” hand.

As they left the parking lot for the road and then merged onto the highway, he kept his attention on the napkins. One by one, he pulled them from the wad, smoothed and stacked them neatly on his lap. There had to be at least a dozen napkins in the wad; why had she taken so many? When Marsha asked him for a napkin, he would hand one over to her without looking. When when he finally took his eyes away from his stack and looked around, he was surprised to see how far they had gone.

Marsha had finished eating her ice cream and was leaning back with one hand on the bottom of the steering wheel, her used napkins stuffed into the cup holder between them.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-17

Jamelle and the Watcher

~500 words

The upside creature had been staring at Jamelle with its wide green eyes since the moment she had seen it. Despite having seen these hideous monsters before, the sight of it repulsed her thoroughly — it was, by far, the worst thing she’d seen over the course of her journey away from the Mountain. It was a small thing, humanoid only insofar as it looked to have two legs, a torso, two arms and a head with a face. It’s skin was splotched shades of dark greens and blues and a complete mess of wounds. It looked as though it shouldn’t even be alive at all.

At the sight of the creatures standing in the middle of the path ahead of her, she had immediately recoiled in surprise. Now, she crept forward at the pace of moss growth, her breath, heart and hands steady. She gripped her sword. The creature still wasn’t moving. It was within her reach. If she was quick enough—

She drew her blade and slashed at the beast in a single motion. With apparent ease and uncanny speed, it tumbled backward and dodged the attack. It landed on all fours, peered up at her and emitted a low growl. Then it turned around and bolted amongst the plants that surrounded them, out of sight.

“Just fuck off then,” Jamelle cursed after it before screaming at the top of her lungs. She slammed her sword into its sheath and continued on her way.

Her thoughts were full of fire as she continued southward along the path. Occasionally, she let out another scream to let loose some of her anger at the world around her. The true spiteful impulse she felt was to draw her sword and cut down some of these awful plants that surrounded her but she refrained out of respect for the blade.

Eventually, she came free of the place with the taller plants and came to an open expanse. There were still things growing on the ground but they barely came up to her knees. They were fine and numerous, as though there hairs jutting up from the earth. Here, there was no longer one path but several narrow channels where the plants looked to have been trampled. She wondered whether Paraé had been the one to trample along one of these ways.

She stopped and looked back the way she came. Over the tops of all the tallest green things, she could still see the white peaks of mountains and, especially, she saw the Mountain from whence she’d come. Such a longing she felt to be back beneath it, to be, once again, sheltered by it that she shed several tears at just the sight of it.

She also noticed that the bright light above now looked to be descending. Just as it had risen from below, it now seemed as though it would return to the earth and, once again, the upside would be dark. This was, at least somewhat familiar, closely resembling Koma’s dark span.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-15

Turned

~420 words

Frey woke before anyone else in the group. She spent some time lying still and breathing deeply but her thoughts were already too loud and too many to find her way back to sleep. Then, all of a sudden, they coalesced into resolution. As gently as she could, she slid out from under the blankets. Norin didn’t stir. In the dark, she felt around and donned her long wool coat and made her way outside with only the briefest thought for him. He wasn’t likely to wake before she returned.

The sky was still mostly dark, full of stars, with just the faintest shade of red silently blooming in the East. The cool ocean breeze struck her between the unbuttoned lapels of the coat and she hastily fastened them as she walked. Even in the peak of summer, it persisted. After a minute or two, her hands became cold as well and she slid them into her pockets.

It took her less than half an hour of walking to reach the shore and, as she got closer, the sound of the waves became louder until she was immersed its cacophony. She found a low dip between the dunes and sat in the sand, facing east. What had been a cool breeze further inland was now decidedly a chill wind. She pulled her collar tightly around her neck as she huddled herself downward. Almost imperceptibly, the warm eastern glow had grown like smouldering tinder passing its flame to kindling and at present, layers of orange, purple and yellow while the ocean beneath was a magnificent, deep blue.

When the sun finally rose, she could feel its warmth on her skin as well as a second warmth within her which was a sense of serene contentment. She stayed there until the light had fully emerged and, when she stood up, she quickly realized that, during that time, the wind had almost completely died down. She’d been so focused on watching the sunrise that she hadn’t noticed that the sound of crashing waves had been replaced by the shrill cries of seabirds. The world had turned. It always turned.

As she retraced her way back home, she pondered the impulse she’d had this morning to walk to the beach before dawn and the joy that it had brought her. She was, of course, tempted to pick it to shreds, to question it until it ceased to exist. The path to a darker place would always be both ahead and behind her.

[robotlearnstolove]

2025-04-07

Learning About the Surface

~440 words

During the skylit span — Paraé couldn’t get herself to think of it as the day time — they moved westward through the forest. Silver always took the lead and she kept herself withing a few metres of him so as not to get lost. While he had admitted to not knowing this area particularly well, he seemed to have other methods for finding his way through the wilderness. One of those he called a map and it was, as he explained it, essentially as if someone had drawn a picture of the land from an impossibly high vantage. Upon learning this, Paraé couldn’t help to imagine herself somehow standing higher than the top of the Mountain, looking down upon the world. It was a staggering thought to her and yet to Silver, the map was just another common tool in his bag.

They mostly walked in silence. Mostly, Silver concerned himself with keeping them on the correct path but would occasionally point one thing or another that he thought might be of interest to Paraé. For her part, she rarely spoke while they were walking because the world around her held her attention so thoroughly. Every green thing, every white streak across the sky, every crisp shadow cast by the sun and every creature that scurried, scuttled or fluttered past them filler her was wonder. Every moment, it still felt to her as though she was seeing the surface for the first time — overwhelmed by the light.

When the sky started to darken — when night time came — they would stop walking and share a meal. It was during this time that the questions regarding what she had seen throughout the day came pouring out of her and Silver was willing — enthusiastic even — to answer them as best he could. Not once had he shown any sign of being annoyed by her ignorance. He was patient, kind and, in Paraé’s esteem, honest. When he didn’t have an answer to one of her questions, he said so. When he was uncertain about his knowledge, he said so.

They would usually talk until the sky was completely dark. If they’d kept the fire going, they would often talk for longer. There seemed to be no limit to how much Paraé could learn about the world. Every answer he gave raised new questions in her mind. Not only was the Mountain where she was born a small part of what Silver called the habitable continent but that continent was also only a small part of the entire world. Not only that, but he had mentioned the possibility of the existence of other worlds.