“We are seemingly so different, yet we are all made of the same ‘stuff’.” One night I saw a robot looking out a window as it uttered this, apparently to no one in particular. Not willing to disturb the moment, I said nothing and moved on.
The robot turned it’s attention from its drink and regarded me quietly, steadily. The last time I had been looked at that way was by a cat. Not as a threat; not prey; but as a subject worthy of some small amount of attention.
Fan art Friday!