Breakfast these days was a bar of soap. Nothing less, nothing more. Maisie’s grandmother had told her stories of humans and their fragile stomachs couldn’t handle the taste of soap, and honestly, Maisie found that hard to believe. Her kind, the AnDroids as humans liked to call them, had been raised on different meals- the oil of a model car, for example, or the bottom of a letter- the part that contained the x’s and o’s.
She made her way downstairs, where Grandma was just serving breakfast. The radio was on, the AnDroid announcer prattling on about the latest misdeeds of humans. They wanted war with the AnDroids, it seemed, claiming their jobs were being stolen, running amok with no sense of cohesion whatever. Grandma’s snort told Maisie everything she needed to know- it was beneath them.
Breakfast over, Maisie slipped into her room. Grandma would be out for the most of the day, going around, shopping, talking to the neighbors, buying fabrics and funny little buttons that Maisie loved to sort and play with. So, knowing that Grandma would be out, Maisie pried up the loose board in the corner of her room, taking out a CD player. Grandma wasn’t a big fan of human artifact, in fact, saying that she hated them wouldn’t be too far from the truth. But Maisie couldn’t stay away from music. She’d gotten the CDs from a previous classmate- back in elementary school, before the humans decided the AnDroids were too dangerous for their kids to be around.
Maisie knew when Grandma was back, she’d have to pretend to hate humans and all their inventions again. But for now, she swayed to the music, closing her eyes and letting herself pretend peace was the reality.
The AnDroids
