Image from “The Girl With The Mechanical Maiden”. All Rights Reserved.


A fast fiction story on the memories we take with us from childhood

I remember Nanny.

She was a 4th Generation Child-Watcher series.

She was made of metal of course. Every robot up until the 6th Generation was.

All slick silver, black paint, and red LCD eyes. Not a thing of beauty by any stretch.

Nothing at all like the smooth, space age plastic bots of today.

Hell, she wasn’t even human shape. Wheels instead of legs and a torso shaped like a box.

But her arms and hands, those were human shaped. All slick silver metal, but human shaped.

Those were the hands that cleaned me up after I would run in from a softball game or after I got into a fight.

The hands that tucked me in at night, whenever my parents were too busy.

They were always too busy…

But Nanny…

She taught me how to walk, how to read, how to use the toilet.

And she would sing to me at night.

Sing to me in low beeps and quiet hums. The secret language of the robots.

A year after my parents died, I honestly forgot what they looked and sounded like.

But I remember Nanny.

- end -

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