Iris on Rainy Days: Rebirth- Day 2
Today, I continue to do the 'labor' that I did yesterday.
The labor that I am doing today is the same as yesterday. Carrying the discarded construction material— removing the rubble and steel bars that almost buried the horizons is the job of these robots. A large amount of discarded construction materials are piled up here, and there are black, charred marks everywhere. It looks as though this places is the ruins that were left from an explosion of a large building.
At the other side of the ruins, the gray seas extend to afar. No, the seas should be blue. It's because my vision is monochrome, and can only differentiate white, black and gray, I would not know of the other colors.
My vision is still terrible. White lines in old movies still appear in my vision. The white noise is still ringing non-stop. So, I named this phenomenon 'rain'. The white lines are raindrops, the white noise is the sound of the rain. Only I can see it, and only I can hear it.
At the other side of the rain, there are over a hundred robots lined up untidily, carrying the waste construction materials as well. Most of their limbs do not match their bodies, as they are also robots made by combining second hand parts. They soundlessly carry the waste construction materials non-stop.
I carry the materials among them while thinking of what happened yesterday.
What am I doing here?
Created by Professor, living together with Professor, working for Professor, a robot owned exclusively by Professor. That is me.
However, what is with this current situation? The pretty, warm body of the young girl has disappeared. The only thing left is a combination of junk parts— binoculars for eyes, a small speaker for a mouth, a thick, short torso, and the continuous track on the lower part of my body— an ugly body that would make people feel like puking even with a glance.
I sunk into a self-disgust a few times today.
With a thud, an impact came from my head. A rock as large as a fist rolled in front of me.
"Stop dreaming, number 108!" the inspector's angry roar starts to ring, "Who says that you can rest! Hurry up and move it!"
After apologizing with my electronic voice, I unsteadily turn my continuous track, moving onto the slope.
I start my forty third trip today.
Under the dreary, gray skies, I continue to do the depressing job. There are over a hundred colleagues on the slope in front of me, and countless tracks.
And I repeat the same process.
What am I doing here?
The arrival of night announced the end of the day.
I enter the warehouse, plugging the plug into my body.
Only on the moment when my power source is switched off, the rain will stop.
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