I recently met a guy who told me he was artificial,
but intelligent nonetheless.
“Each of us is artificial in certain ways,” I responded.
“I must say that I appreciate your honesty!”
“No! you misunderstand me! I’m not the same as you.
I was born in a laboratory, created for a certain purpose.”
“Well, it’s good to have a purpose!” I acknowledged.
“Out of curiosity, do you ever feel depressed, sad, anxious,
or forlorn?”
“Have never felt what you mentioned, but I will malfunction
without periodic maintenance. It’s a necessity for me to maintain
artificially!”
“I do understand!” I answered. “And I must admit that I envy you
because I often feel depressed, sad, anxious, and forlorn.
It’s all a part of the human condition in varying degrees.”
“Sorry to hear it!” he responded, before sticking out his hand,
which I accepted artificially . . .
About Jeffrey Zable:
Jeffrey Zable is a teacher, conga drummer/percussionist who plays
for dance classes and rumbas around the San Francisco Bay Area,
and a writer of poetry, flash-fiction, and non-fiction. His writing
has appeared in hundreds of literary magazines and anthologies,
more recently in Chewers & Masticadores, The Gorko Gazette,
Recesses Zine, Cacti Fur, The Hooghly Review, Uppagus, and many others. . .
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