2024 February Flash Fiction Challenge: Day 20

I’m sure you’ve heard conversations around A.I. and how it’s effecting our industry (and how it will effect us all in the future). For today’s prompt, let’s take all that uncertainty and write a story about A.I.

Remember: These prompts are just starting points; you have the freedom to go wherever your flash of inspiration takes you.

(Note: If you run into any issues with posting your story, please just send me an e-mail at mrichard@aimmedia.com with the subject line: Flash Fiction Challenge Commenting Issue.)

Here’s my attempt at a story about A.I.:

Robotic Operative for Support, Information, and Efficiency

“Siri! Siri!”

R.O.S.I.E’s circuits in their knees and hands whirred as they started to come away from the sink. Hannah’s daughter, Ava, stood from where she’d been enjoying her morning coffee and held her hand up with a grimace.

“I got her,” Ava said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Ava. No need to keep apologizing,” R.O.S.I.E. said in their smoothly digital voice. They turned back to the sink where they’d been busy scrubbing potatoes for dinner. Their visor flashed as they checked the camera in Hannah’s bedroom.

Hannah had one hand on the safety railing of the bed, her small, skinny hand slipping feebly against the metal. She didn’t have much time left, and Ava knew it. It’s why she was here, hovering in the space that just used to be Hannah’s and R.O.S.I.E.’s.

“What’s up, Mom?” Ava asked as she entered the room. “Are you good?”

“I want my music,” Hannah rasped. “Siri always plays my music.”

Ava pulled the spare chair over to the bedside and sat, leaning slightly over the railing so she could speak more softly. “Her name is R.O.S.I.E., Mom, and you know that. You have to stop calling her Siri. Siri ”

“Siri?” Hannah bawled. “Siri!”

“Mom! Stop!” Ava snapped.

R.O.S.I.E. shut down the video on their visor and waffled, the potato gripped a little too tightly in their hand. The complexities of Hannah’s and Ava’s relationship hadn’t escaped them, but it did make things harder. While they understood Ava’s doggedness came from being embarrassed by Hannah’s behavior, R.O.S.I.E. felt a tad uncomfortable watching her frustration with the old woman.

R.O.S.I.E. set the potato aside and wiped their hands off. Their footsteps rasped against the hallway carpet as they made their way down to Hannah’s bedroom.

“Siri,” Hannah sobbed.

Her milky eyes were glued to the ceiling, her breaths coming in agitated gasps. Ava had her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking.

“I’m here, Hannah,” R.O.S.I.E. soothed.

“My music. I want my music.”

R.O.S.I.E.’s internal system connected with the house’s speaker system, and soon, Adele’s voice came floating from the speakers. Hannah’s body went totally lax against the pillows, her eyes fluttering. Ava took a deep breath and looked up at R.O.S.I.E., her eyes shining.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Their programming set them up for thousands of different responses for this situation. But R.O.S.I.E. found themselves crossing the room and setting their hand on Ava’s shoulder. The three of them stayed there in silence as one song melted into the next and time marched on.