She touched my face and asked me why I was so sad. I said You're mistaken, I'm not sad at all, and she said Yes you are, I know because I'm a robot and I can read your mind. And sure enough I was sad and hadn't told anyone and sure enough, I reached up and touched her face and under the soft warmth of her skin I could feel the cold, unyielding metal underneath. And I said You are a robot and she said Yes, I was born from the dreams of a small lonely child whose only companions were a library full of Isaac Asimov books, this child who was so sad his whole life, and I sprung forth from his head like that one god I always forget, and this is why I can tell when people are sad.

And I said What is your name, robot? and she said You may call me...Entendre, and she laughed to herself as if this were some sort of joke. I touched her face again and said How did your skin get so soft? and Entendre said My positronic brain is covered by a protective layer of blue steel cut from the hood of a 1987 Yugo, which is itself then covered by a pliable form of plastic derived from the melted remains of a thousand discarded Barbie dolls. So why are you so sad? And I said Because I am lonely, robot. I am lonely and you are beautiful and will you come home and make love to me, robot? And Entendre said The First Law of Robotics states that I must never harm a human or through inaction allow a human to be harmed, so yes, I will come home and make love to you.

And we did. And I could feel her metallic hips underneath my calcium ones. I could see the internal glow of her eyes behind her pupils. And she read my mind while we made love. She would reach up unexpectedly and say Thank you even though I hadn't said anything. And I realized after awhile that I could read her mind. I could feel the electronic synapses of her artificial brain turning on and off, on and off, 10110001110110000 which in her language means I love you and I said I love you too, robot. Won't you stay here with me and we will carve a happy life out for ourselves? People will look at you strangely and people will look at me strangely but I don't care because I've never been with someone who could read my mind before.

And Entendre said I love you but I cannot stay. I have to go find my Maker. And I said But your Maker is dead and she said Dead, alive, it matters not. I love him with all of my being and I will spend my existence trying to find him. And I sat in front of the robot and cried and the robot reached up and touched my tears and said with curiosity What is this hot, salty water coming out of your face? and I said Never mind, robot, that is the oil that humans produce to lubricate a sticky heart. Now go and start your quest.

And the robot left and it wandered the land for the next 120 years, trying in vain to find its Creator, and for the rest of my life, at times when I least expected it, I could feel tender, warm, hard fingers tickling my brain, and I knew that, wherever she was, Entendre was thinking of me. And for the briefest of moments, I would stop being sad and marvel at the modern age in which we live.