Like Ray Bradbury said about Fahrenheit 451, he was writing to PREVENT the future, not predict it. And, I doubt I’m the first to think of this idea, so …
This story contains no artificial ingredients. In short, no rewrites. It is what it is as I put it down on cyber paper. Photo by Shaktiki Sharma. They reminded me of little swimming pool robot cleaner-uppers instead of grindstones. Mea culpa.
“They did … what??”
“They copied my synapses. You see, since stuff is run by machines now, all they have to do is interview someone … like me … and copy my responses so the machine can run with human-type responses.”
Al thought a minute. “And they can actually do that now?”
Charlie lit a cigarette. “Yup. Best part is, they pay me a royalty for using my brain patterns in the robot. So, I get paid and I ain’t got to do nothing.”
“And if the robot breaks down?”
Charlie about dropped his cig. “Holy cow, I never thought of that.”