Profile
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Phobos pressed his hands and face against the glass. The world below was filled with flashing lights and clean, cold steel. The sidewalk changed color as people walked along it, and the buildings he could see displayed neon signs that showed the names of each place and what could be found inside. The area he could see was fairly open and beautiful, but it also felt fake. In the distance, the buildings looked much taller and held a dark, menacing vibe that he could feel even from here.
The scenery was not what he was looking at currently. His focus was on a child and mother. He watched longingly as the two of them held hands, but then the child suddenly stopped. The mother, who was given no choice but to also stop, scooped the child up and rubbed their noses together. He could see the child was crying, but stopped at being comforted, and the two of them continued on their way.
“What’s wrong?”
The glass next to him fogged up, and he realized that his brother must have noticed the distraught look on his face. Tearing his gaze away from the outside, he looked into familiar eyes. “Why don’t we have a mother, Mo?”
Deimos furrowed his brow. “I don’t know.” The two of them had been left at the orphanage not long after being born, and while they were kept together, he had a feeling that was only because they were the same age.
“It’s not fair.” Tears were forming in Phobos’s eyes. “All we have is robots. Why can’t we have what those people down there have?” Robots could not comfort you with a warm body and tell you everything was going to be ok. They could not understand when you needed more time to complete a task or were having a hard time understanding school work. He wanted to be surrounded by flesh and blood, not screws and bolts.
Deimos pulled him into a hug. “It’s not so bad here. One day you will be out there, and you will always have me.”
Phobos sniffled and rest his head against his brother’s shoulder, but the attempted comfort failed to fill the growing emptiness inside of him.
