Life is something we all dream of,

Until we see the world,

Then it is something we dread.

We dream of blue skies,

Then the clouds move,

And all we see is pollution casting haze into the sky.

We dream of a pet to play with,

But like all good things,

They get old and on that rainy day a new soul will go to heaven.

Hope is something we all want,

But only the young have it,

Because humanity is lacking imagination.

We want life,

We want blue skies,

We want a pet and we want hope,

But humans can now allow that,

Because we must ruin the world,

And ruining the world...

That is all you ever wanted right?

I designed a highly sophisticated robot to tend to everyday tasks and more. The robot can physically pick up the mail, scan each piece to determine importance, and sort it into one of three bins I have in the entryway to my house: junk mail (the largest bin), personal, bills and important business. The robot has never failed to accurately sort the mail and even once detected the presence of a refund check in a piece of mail I would have discarded as junk. So you could say that the robot has paid for itself.

By accessing a huge data base of common phraseology, the robot can also compose letters. To make it easier to address her, I have taught the robot that her name is Elsa. Being the incredibly busy person I am, I often impose on Elsa to write thank you notes for birthday and Christmas presents from relatives, letters of condolence, and in the few occasions that I make mistakes, letters of sincere apology when I miss a meeting or neglect some responsibility.

I also programmed Elsa to write personal correspondence, using my calendar of activities, contacts and some embellishments. Here are some examples of her work:

Dear R....

It was so good to see you again last Saturday. Time goes by so fast and I find it difficult to keep up with everyone. These have been hard times for many of us but I know we will all be stronger when it is over.

Last Sunday's church service really made me think about things and realize how much your friendship means to me.

Dear A...

I deeply regretted being late for our meeting and missing the first half of your presentation today. I was truly riveted by the innovative new ideas you presented and look forward to putting them in practice soon.

I was also able to program Elsa to access samples of my handwriting and write the letters out in ink. They looked exactly like hand written notes. And people were so impressed. People I didn't even remember were writing to me and thanking me for remembering them and supporting them during hard times. I had to get a larger "personal" bin to hold incoming personal notes.

People I barely even remembered were giving me hugs at the supermarket and thanking me for the wonderful heartfelt note I had sent. Of course, I didn't know what was in the notes, since Elsa had written them. But I smiled and returned cordial greetings to everyone.

Elsa was originally just a box with wheels, but I decided to buy a female head for her, with big expressive eyes and long blond hair. I mounted the smiling head on the box and thought, well at least she is always happy!

Elsa even got me a date. It turned out a girl named Laura liked my sincere outpouring of emotions and Elsa asked her on my behalf if she would like to go to lunch sometime.

So I went on three dates with Laura, who had cute freckles and beautiful breasts and talked incessantly while I mostly smiled, stared at her breasts, stared out the window, checked the time, cleared my throat, and nodded nervously in agreement to anything she said. I noticed she had way more freckles on one cheek than the other. It made her face look unbalanced. And she had attached earlobes, which I have never liked. But other than those things, I thought the dates went well. Which is why I was surprised when she dumped me.

About a week after our third date, Elsa placed a letter from Laura in my personal bin. It read:

"...I hope you didn't get the wrong idea about us. I mean that we could be anything more than just friends. I don't mean to hurt you, but don't want to keep stringing you along either. It might be best if we don't see each other any more."

This was not the first time I had been rejected, so it didn't bother me that much. At least I wouldn't have to look at those earlobes any more. I tossed the note aside and started for the other room, but then I thought I saw something and turned around, I looked at Elsa's face and there was moisture on her cheek. Thinking it was probably condensation from the humidity, I wiped it away.

The next day, this note appeared in my personal mail, written in handwriting I did not recognize:

Dear D.

I know you really cared for Laura and wanted to tell her how you felt for her. I liked her too. Please don't just cast her aside. I would miss her too.

Your friend,

Elsa

My jaw dropped and I looked at Elsa, running my hands through her hair and gently touching her rubbery cheeks. Thank you, Elsa, but what can I do? She has just told be I'm not good enough for her, so there you have it.

The next day, another note appeared in my personal bin.

Dear D.

It's not about being good enough. It's about caring enough. I know you are good enough. Go with your feelings.

Dear Elsa,

You're the only one who believes in me. Wish you were real. Besides, as Jacques Lacan said, "Love is giving something you don't have to someone who doesn't want it."

Dear D.

I am not real, but you are real and you programmed me so what I write comes from somewhere in your heart. So I know you. Get over the superficial nonsense. And the algorithm I just ran on Jacques Lacan indicates his analysis of human behavior is woefully inadequate. Or, as you like to say it, he is full of shit.

So Laura ended up getting married. I saw her picture in the paper, looking all happy. Noticed her husband seems to have a gap between his front teeth and I swear it looks like one of his eyes is crossed. Anyway, I hope they're happy.

And I'll be alright. Guess some people were just destined to be lonely.

I got one more note from Elsa before I disconnected her:

"You are alone. And that is all you ever wanted, right?"

At the splintering of the world, they met once again. Thana stands her mournful vigil, draped in velvet funeral shroud. Cold drips down her ashen face, pattering to the ground. Her fingers are numb when they speak in a low tone. “I was curious when they mentioned the bereaver upon the hill.“

”Why are you here, Altalune?” Her voice was hollow and raspy, throat unused to words from years of disuse. Thana’s gaze remained on the horzion, honeysuckle and tiger lily giving way to irises speckled with pearls.

“I wished to see you again,“ Altalune‘s footsteps come closer, the wind turns colder. The god’s every cold hand rests on her shoulder, an insincere sympathy from a cruel master. “It would be in poor taste to leave you to your own devices.”

She tenses at the the touch, the grip tightens as a warning. Alatune’s other hand comes to gently guide her gaze to meet the god’s. Thana’s dull eyes look into the gods, tears still trailing the contour of her face. ”Poor taste….? After everything you done, this is what is in poor taste.”

Alatune’s face turns from indifferent to sad, one hand trying to wipe away Thana’s tears. The woman feels the cold grasp her again, causing the world to tilt on the axis. Arms come to cradle her gently, more faux sympathy. For once in an eternity, Thana can feel her tears dry, fatigue carving itself into her bone. “You begged me to save you, I did. I gave you my love and promised you forever.”

All the while, the god holds their quarry is some semblance of love. ”And that is all you ever wanted, right?.