Diary of a Broken Android — Day 2
Turtles and Cigarettes
In the living room, I hear dogs barking. They bother me a little. I walk this time to the garden, and there, under the olive tree, near the money plant and jasmines, I hear the turtles mating. One of them—whether the one on top or the one below, I don't know—lets out a wail. The sound is grating. These are two male turtles, here since before I joined the family.
Back in the dining room, I see Father step out to smoke. I've grown used to joining him. It's one of the few moments—along with lunch and dinner—when I pause my walking. He offers me a cigarette. I know smoking dirties my insides, stains the nail of my right index finger, and yellows my teeth. That bothers me.
Father talks about self-help phrases and overcoming obstacles. Something about leaving the past behind. And a quote from Tagore: "If you shed tears when you miss the sun, you also miss the stars". I don't understand it. I know he's referring to the incident at the Dawson Hotel.
It's lunchtime. I sit in the charging chair. Since I walk day and night, I use the chair that used to be in the garage where Mother taught piano. They recharge me again at dinner.
After they finish eating, I sweep while Mother washes the dishes, then resume my walking. On my phone, I check the messenger. Ara has me blocked. She blocked me long ago, since the incident. But every day, I check if she's changed her mind. Father says it's impossible.
The only other android on my messenger is Morton. Morton is a psychotherapist at the hotel where I worked. His human family is gone. He rents a room to see his patients. Humans have preferred android therapists for a while now. Morton counsels music stars and moderately famous actors and actresses. He's my only friend. The only other android on my messenger.
Today, he tells me I don't want to change because changing means losing something. Does he mean losing my memories of Ara? I don't ask, but I know forgetting would be impossible. By day, I think of castaways and lonely people who've fled society. At night, without stopping my walk, I think of Ara again.
there are some really vivid images in here (of course, the turtles!) and it feels like this is building so steadily towards the Hotel reveal. I need to know more! Also love the Father's empty self-help quotes lol. Even to most people, those don't make sense, let alone an android.
The turtle moment is fantastic. Weird. Awkward. Maybe symbolic. Maybe just very real. Either way, it adds flavor. The fact that they’re two male turtles makes it even more quietly haunting, like a reflection of Bruno’s own displacement in the world. Or maybe it's just a strange, organic contrast to his mechanical presence. Either way: memorable.
I'm highly intrigued by Morton the android therapist, and I kinda want to hire him.
Also, I agree 100% with the other commenters. I want to know about the incident at the hotel!