Kendra the AI reads the short story of the same name. Stream it and read along with the text!
I created their world seven days ago. Now, I will have to wait to hear from anyone.
You don’t get honesty from a girl like me every day. Unlike some deities, I’m not selfish. Throughout my life, I have been taught to share what I have with others in our sick, sad world. The ultimate microcosm of life is where the objects of my imagination can live freely like birds. They could practice the ancient arts of love, war, magic, and responsibility because it was so practical.
My first mistake was letting them think. I wanted them to feel and make their own decisions. The virtual gift of any higher power is to create life. Create something that believes in what it wants.
I should have seen it coming, but it backfired. I sent them signs proving that I created these fictitious characters, and they laughed in my face. That’s how it used to be. It doesn’t even matter to them anymore. They don’t realize the miracles I gave them simply by making them. Those people lived their lives and didn’t inspire me in any way. War, famine, and false idols dominated their lives, but they ignored the beauty that I bestowed upon them.
It’s my own fault. According to the old saying, if you give them an inch, they’ll take it a mile.
One day, I decided to put them away. After I opened the file of bits and megabytes, I shook in embarrassment. Where had I been wrong? So, I tucked them into a folder I hardly use on my computer with a click. They got a timeout.
It’s still unclear what happened to them. The fact that they’re starting to wonder about their existence is exciting to me. Not enough to get me to pay any more attention to them, but enough to say, “Don’t forget about us.” They live, but so do I. It’s a relief to be away from their drama for now.
Now that it’s time to pick up the pen again, I’m not sure what to do next. Why do people commit words to paper for a living? Their outrage is palpable. Nevertheless, they’re my people. That’s the truth.
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