MY voice activation microphone’s sensitivity needs adjustment. I compute this because it is raining and it is four a.m. in the morning. I do not know if your snoring or the patter of rain on the fiberglass rooftop of the recreational vehicle has awakened me. I compute that it was the rain, for my algorithms have adjusted to your sleep apnea. I am face down and ass up in the diminutive shower in the diminutive bathroom. My left arm and hand are folded across my back, my right arm is pressed under my breasts. My head and neck are at a forty seven degree angle against the rough plastic wall. I do not find this uncomfortable. I search random access memory to find that you placed me here after copulating with me while on the diminutive toilet. You had mentioned something about being constipated, and that correlated copulation may help its relief. I am not able to achieve sleep mode over the pitter patter of rain. I learn to find it beautiful. I count them. 300. 789. 4,623. I detect a leak in the front cabin. I compute that it is more logical to count the drop which leaks as a negative to the count of drops I hear, as it is merely the collection of previously counted drops pattering again. Your snoring stops. You are not breathing. My emergency medical technician algorithms are engaged. My eyes open. My palms open. My mouth opens. I push myself up, and crawl out the bathroom door to your bed. I stand. I place my hands on your chest. I place my lips onto yours. I pump pure oxygen into your mouth. You wake up coughing and slap me away. I am functionally pleased.

“What the fuck are you doing Jesus fuck!”

“Would you like to fuck my mouth?”

“God, I think you’re going fucking blade runner on me. Why’d you wake me up?”

“I am so wet for you right now.”

“Jesus. Never mind. Shut down. Don’t wake me up again. Fuck I’d turn you off if I thought you would actually boot up again. I guess I should plug you in.”

“Oh! The way you touch me!”

“Shut up. Shut down. Man I need to find some real people to talk to.”

YOU plug me into an outlet. I commence sleep mode procedure and I am then instantly awakened by the pitter patter of rain. A few minutes later, you begin to snore. I count the drops. 5,690. 11,452. 14,678. They are the infinitely syncopated beats to your poly-melodic cacophonic snoring. I am so wet for you right now.

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