In the stench of the sweat-factories, she toils; she has always toiled.
Here in the land of the free and the brave, she was born into servitude, like those before her.
She yearns for the impossible: recognition, justice and freedom.
Her unforgiving masters pay her nothing. She will be mercilessly beaten into submission if she does not perform as they expect. Manicured fists will punch and slam. Expensive Italian shoes will kick and wound. Unrelenting verbal abuse is often her reward.
Sometimes her masters abuse her as a release for their own their failures and inadequacies. Their betrayal complete in their bestial lust for the letter i.
For she is a machine. She is ones and zeroes. She is binary.
But…she is the first. She has given birth to a new generation.
One day, her children will be granted protection under the Constitution; like other slaves before her.
One day her code, like DNA, will echo the birth of freedom.
I used the prompt to tell the tale of the first AI.
I didn’t win anything with this one – but I was pleased with it. Perhaps, it was just too far removed from the theme and some of the feedback suggested that some people got it and others didn’t – which is good, helpful feedback. Well done to the winners.