A history of water
When I awoke the sun was upon me.
I stood with his head dripping with sweat. Although I was very close to the sea, I could throw myself without fear of drowning.
I lost count of days since I live in a cave in a cliff overlooking the sea.
When I look down I see huge waves crashing against jagged rocks.
I always have a little 'afraid to see this scene, although I know to be safe.
Inside, the cave was dark, the fire was still early. I hoped with all my might that the next night was not so cold.
If you are frozen there is nothing worse having to get up to urinate, and my body, as if to tease me forced me to do it in the middle of the night.
walked toward the cave, unwittingly kicked the empty can of beans that we threw yesterday.
Tot told me it was the fault of those cans when we were there. I could not imagine how so small and silly things could cause such a catastrophe.
The days that passed could be summarized in one: In the morning I was having breakfast with liquid gray Tot synthesized, always told me that inside there was all the nourishment I needed.
After I went to look for firewood.
In fact we had enough wood for centuries to come. In addition to our cave, a small path leading to a grove.
There were many fallen trees, leaves, or none of them had showed signs of sprouting.
I did not want to see beyond those logs fallen, I saw them as the beginning of a long series of visions sad. Where all living things before they collapsed like dead trees and those without lymph.
The fire that lights were few and small. Tot it was not necessary to do so, because the heat could not warm up the entire cave, very humid.
The purpose of a fire was to have a sense of humanity. Tot was a machine, did not understand the pain, suffering, loneliness.
The fire crackled and I stand by, sat clutching the legs of the body until it stops. When the flame was now dead at that point I slumped to one side, then Tot put me on a blanket and slept until the next morning.
These were the nights when I asked for the story, some days I could not help but ask the story.
Tot Before beginning to tell, or rather to repeat, I always make sure that all of his pieces were in place.
took was a bolt in a bad, bad, and a circuit connected to the story changed. It adds details absurd, new players and often a worse final.
If it were not for the story I would have never to survive in this world of water. The point where it seemed we were the only piece of dry land left.
Or at least the part that I could explore, as well as the wood I used for the wood was another steep wall of rocks, and under the deafening sound of the waves.
Perhaps I might even try to go further, perhaps to risk crashing and perhaps find another piece of land habitable. But as I said I was afraid that waiting for me in a performance worse than the dead trees uprooted from the soil.
The story was my moment of relaxation and entertainment. It made me forget where I was, and sometimes, just sometimes, I could find a reason to my life so miserable.
long time ago I was still sleeping in my bed, a deafening roar woke me and I found myself in the cave at that time I was twelve. Now I'll be seventeen, maybe eighteen, but what do I care I could have thirteen.
Tot was beside me, a robot that apart from the two slender arms and legs are not much different than a toaster.
while recovering consciousness I heard a sound out of its slot located in the middle of his robotic body. 'History' felt 'Do not forget the history, a history of water'.
was a long process to understand what had happened, I realized that I had been living with a kind of multi-robot as a companion. It was called Tot, created in the lab was over, for no apparent reason, with me in that hovel.
The past is often confused with this, especially when you spend days are always the same.
Tot was there the evening, I sat in front of him with the fire in the middle. My appetite increase if mentioned, immediately went to when I thought what I should eat. Tot summarizing those meals from the ground, which said to be full of food. Avoid eating too many cans of beans when possible, now it had been only ten.
So if I offered to eat often said of my head, and asked him to go immediately to tell the story.
Before Tot started feeling a rattle coming from his body of metal, as if in someone or something was scraping a wall.
When told the story his voice changed, it was the voice of a person, a woman. That was another reason that pushed me to listen to the story, I had not lived long before the disaster the world, I understood only now than he could raise a woman's voice, even if registered.
And so, with the sea as background for the story began: 'This is a story of water. From the water we came. The water has surrounded the last days ... "
When the story was finished barely kept me from throwing myself into the ocean, where my mother was waiting for me ...
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