You Were Made For Loneliness

This story delivers a mad sort of intensity casting the reader as a past-its-prime robot which is purchased at a yard sale and pressed into service by a seemingly-horrible woman who gripes that she has to issue specific commands to you. You're about two decades obsolete, but old robots make good spare robots. You're not one of the newer ones that can carry out implicit actions.

And it also seems the robot's hard drive has been recycled several times. Snippets of other people's lives can be reviewed, nearly always at high-pitch emotional moments. These become almost too extensive to read in one sitting. The angst here is pitch-dark and unflinching in the places it goes. This is not a bad thing.

What worked against this piece is the text styling. If you know enough html to make the background dark gray, you know enough to change the teeny default 8pt Arial font to something else and make it bigger.

I love the interesting games the author plays with agency. I was overwhelmed by some of the lengthy, almost short story-length interludes. Many of these I did read are internet-age adult situations (not the fun kind by any means) that ache under the weight of lived experience. Some are seemingly related to the frame story, some seem out of left field. I was most interested in the owner of the robot. You're not the best one available, and people enjoy interacting with you with about as much care as they do with ATM machines and dial in voice-recognition menus.

Worth it if you like your fiction brewed emo-black and bitter. If the output were more comfortable to physically read I'd definitely want to delve into more of the tangental stories.