Pixel

October 10, 2024

She rolled along the pavement as the sun shone down on her. A warm reminder of the need to charge. She unfolded her charging pad, and stopped where she was at.

“Pixel, you can’t just stop in the middle of the road.” She heard The Old Woman say to her as a chorus of horns honked in the background. The Old Woman tutted under her breath as Pixel, so she was now being called, folded her solar panels back up. “Let’s at least get me home before you decide to get run over by a car.” She had only been out of her box for twenty hours, thirty seven minutes and twelve seconds; she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to know all of these rules. She knew she had to charge, and she knew that she had less than half of her battery life left. That was about it.

She had been unboxed in The Old Woman’s home, and powered on in her small, heavily carpeted much to Pixel’s dismay, living room and was promptly put to work. After reading her box, she found out that she was purchased as a live in nurse for The Old Woman. She had all she needed for that part of her job, but she hadn’t been uploaded any information about how to properly walk your Old Woman to the pharmacy to pick up her extensive collection of medications. Now, being out and about, she noticed that most other aides were human and this felt strange to her. Shifting through her emotions uploads, she felt like she could categorize this feeling as jealousy or frustration. Neither of which made much sense to her.

Once they made it back to The Old Woman’s small apartment, with her small windows, Pixel rolled The Old Woman in front of her television set. It looked to be, like almost everything else in the tiny space, at least thirty years old. She would later hear The Old Woman’s daughter offering to buy her a new one, and The Old Woman getting angry with her over the implication that old things just needed to be thrown away. They were fight for an hour and twenty three minutes about this.

“Bring me the remote, Pixel.” The Old Woman snapped angrily at her before she was even able to get her situated in her sunken in velvet chair. Pixel did as she was told and retrieved the remote from its resting place next to the window. Rolling back over to her, she could feel the long shag carpet getting stuck in her wheels. It was the color of sunshine in the late afternoon, and while it was a nuisance for her wheels to roll over, it was her favorite part of the space she was supposed to call home. “Thank you.” said The Old Woman, but Pixel didn’t think she sounded very thankful.

“I have a lot to learn.” She said to herself.

“Yes, you do. Now, go charge by the window and leave me alone.”