• Published 5th Oct 2020
  • 161 Views, 4 Comments

Sunlight's Saccharine Sack of Sufferable Sour Sounds - Sunlight Rays

A collection of contest entries that are yet to be published or scrapped drafts that never made it onto the site.

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We Are Robots

Author's Note:

Date of Creation: September 8th, 2020

Maud thinks about herself and her two younger sisters while toiling on the rock farm.

Written for PANIC FICTION 53 held in Quills and Sofas. Written in 20 minutes, with 6 minutes to edit. The prompt was 'Robots'.

Robot: Term coined by Czech writer Karel Capek in 1920 in his play R.U.R. The term originated from the Slavic term robota, which was used to indicate peasants forced to work under the feudal system.

Limestone let out a grunt as her pickaxe fell hard on the rock. Thunk. She raised the pickaxe in her mouth and brought it down again. Thunk. She toiled away in the hot summer sunlight, not minding the sweat pouring down her face as she brought the pickaxe down another time. Thunk.

A few feet away from her, Maud and Marble were doing the same thing, bringing down their pickaxes on the unforgiving earth. Thunk. Thunk. They, too, were sweating profusely, yet neither of them uttered a word as they brought their pickaxes down once more. Thunk. Thunk. After watching them for a few seconds, Limestone went back to her work and brought down the pickaxe upon the rock. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

As she toiled away, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, a thought wormed its way into Limestone’s head. We’ll be stuck here for the rest of our lives, won’t we? We’ll just toil our lives away in the scorching sun, trying to make a living out of rocks. ROCKS.

Just then, a sharp voice rang across the rock farm towards Limestone’s ears. “Limestone Pie! Get back to work, or you won’t be having dinner tonight!”

Limestone grunted as she shook her head and got back to work, the heavy iron pickaxe falling upon the hard, unyielding surface. Thunk.

Hours later, the unforgiving sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, and so did the Pie sisters from the rock field. As they headed towards the shack they called their house, walking side by side, none of the sisters uttered a word. They were too tired and exhausted to utter a single syllable.

When the three sisters stepped into the house, they were immediately led into the kitchen where a small piece of bread and a bowl of soup was waiting for them. Silently, the sisters took their pre-determined seats and began eating without saying a word. The bread was hard and dusty while the soup was cold, but the sisters did not complain. They knew better than that.

After all, all three of them were robots, whatever that term meant. But one thing was clear: they were not meant to complain or meant to have breaks. They were meant to work for eternity.