As the sun settled for the evening, so did the hustle in the cafe. The rain refused to let up, enforcing a wet reign over Philadelphia until the early morning hours.
But that would not be for another few hours.
Tess still had not let go of my hand, her tears long since dried to tracks through her makeup, betraying her emotional display earlier. But that was fine, I never truly understood the need to change one’s appearance either way. Equipment was one thing, but to beautify one’s self? A foreign concept to me.
Her voice broke through my thoughts. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
I had to agree with her. While us machine have no need to measure time in seconds, minutes, or hours — our human counterparts based their society off of minute hands and hour hands on the face of a clock. What I measured in a remaining charge, they measured by time.
In short, I was nearing the end of my daily charge and would be switching to reserves if I didn’t turn in for the day.
“Yes, I think it’s time we left,” I said with some artificial hesitance.
Why a hesitance? Well, in my formative years as an artificial intelligence, I happened to be trained off of human culture and anecdotes. Anecdotes like getting phones or tablets wet, and short circuiting the machine to where it no longer works.
That isn’t to say I wasn’t immune to the rain. My inventor put in safeguards to prevent my delicates from being exposed to any form of humidity or liquid that wasn’t meant to be there already.
But machines remember. And I hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella.
Tess was already up and by the door before she turned around and called my name. I looked at her, then back at my empty cup (there really isn’t a need to pour a drink for a machine anyway), and I got up with a stutter.
“Are you alright?” Her gentle hand touched my back, I could feel her concern enveloping me. “Are you shaking?”
“No, Tess, machines cannot be afraid.”
“Then why are you shivering?”
“…I must be cold.”
“Right.”
Tess took my hand and gripped it in a way only Tess could. A strain I had not noticed on my processing power seemed to vanish in that minute. I looked at her, and we shared a long look. Tess seemed to have something on the edge of her lips, but it couldn’t quite make it past them. I decided to make a request.
“Can you please pull me?”
“What?”
“Into the rain.” I looked away. “I think I’m scared.”
A silence. A soft silence. Even though the men of her species treated her rough and broke her heart in so many ways, she still remained soft. It was one of my favorite parts of her. One of my favorite parts of my favorite human.
“I can’t believe you remembered.” I could hear the smile.
“How could I forget something you told me?” The answer. I could not forget. It was Tess.
She began walking and I followed into the rain.
“When you don’t have the strength to take another step, ask those you love to pull you.”
The Liberal Lens: Finding Life in the Moment 
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