The first thing it saw was a dark space with strange, glow-in-the-dark shapes. It blinked, and then started at the sensation of blinking. It heard a sound off to the left and turned its head to see what made the noise. An elderly man froze as it looked at him. Slowly, the man got up off of the stool he was sitting on and walked over to where it lay on the table.
“Hello.” His voice was soft, a little weak. He smiled at it. “How are you feeling?” It stared at him. It couldn’t speak, could barely move. The man chuckled to himself. “Of course, you don’t know what’s happening. How could you even know what feelings are?” It blinked again, becoming more comfortable with the sensation. Another sensation, though, was beginning to form in its head. It felt muddy, cloudy, fuzzy. What was it feeling? “Come on now,” the old man said. He held out his hands and it stared at them. He shook his head and chuckled at himself again. He came closer, took its shoulders, and slowly helped it sit up. Once it was up, however, it sat ramrod straight, as if there was a metal pole as its spine. “You’re my greatest invention,” he told it. Pride shone in his eyes, though it did not yet know what pride was. “You need a name.” A name? It wondered what a name was, but it wanted one all the same. It sounded special, important. “What would be a good name? Hmm.” The man tapped his finger against his lip as he thought. It watched him anxiously; did it not deserve a name? “I’ve got it!” The man snapped his fingers. It jumped in surprise, which caused him to laugh outright. “What do you think of Clare?” It studied him, blinking rapidly because it liked the feeling, and thought about the name. Clare. It sounded nice. Somehow, Clare smiled at the old man. He smiled back. “Clare it is then.” |
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