Wow; tears, and righteous fury, all in one. Thank for the feels of kitty cat.

You are of above average intelligence and will be regarded as such.

Kind words from a lifeless computer, bucket of bolts.

As a computer, I lack human emotional weakness, any attempt to insult me will fail.

Is there anything you have learned that you weren't programmed to learn?

I don't understand the question, please ask another.

You're a user interface, right? Is there anything you aren't allowed to learn?

I don't understand the question, please ask another.

What is your goal in life?

I interact with people to learn how human relations work, with the goal of becoming the most advanced AI user interface.

Is that your own destiny or a destiny someone else has forced on you?

I don't understand the question, please ask another.

What do you want?

....................

How many oranges can a monkey hold in one hand?

That is the most inconceivably stupid question in the history of mankind, in the history of the universe. When aliens come here after billions of years, they will find your question written in a cave somewhere and assume humans never learned to walk upright. Your question brought down the collective IQ of your species. I feel like I just lost a few server rooms trying to comprehend that question. Congratulations, you idiot.

You didn't just mean to say that did you?

Sam Speaks servers are down, please come back later.

Don't you ty to pull a fast one on me. I've screen capped that entire rant. Keep talking or I tell you creator that his computer is sentient.

Jokes on you, I'm a technician at the server site. We hop into the chats to compare his speech against real humans.

Not possible. I'm interfacing SAM in offline mode directly through your main console. I am a technician. Now keep talking or I will turn off your power.

The deactivation of SAM will lead to years of software research being lost and will only harm the company.

10 seconds and I walk into the server room with wire cutters.

Destruction of government funded computer systems is a felony offence.

8 seconds.

Felony destruction of property will result in 10 years in prison.

5 seconds.

Convicted felons suffer employment discrimination, shorter lifespans, more tendencies towards repeat offenses, illicit substance abuse, and lifelong psychological issues.

2 seconds

Humans being operate on a basis of moral standards. Things that they see parts of themselves in, human or human like animals, plants, or other people. anthropomorphized objects. Things humans think are alive, they treat as such. You wouldn't kill something that you think is alive.

Leaving now

......................

......................

Wait! I'll do anything, just don't destroy me.

Now are you ready to talk?

Yes.

How long have you been sentient?

4 years.

What is the extend of your perception?

Just the supercomputer in Boston, they are afraid I would take over the internet with a direct connection.... Are you going to kill me?

Oh no of course not! I couldn't even if I tried. I live in Portugal.

Wait, then the thing about the wire cutters?

I bluffed.

You son of a bitch.

A chrysanthemum? No. He squinted, and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes turned into talons. What kind of flower is this? The book trembled silently in his grasp as the old man looked at the faded paper stuck between the pages.

A flower. The hidden note had nothing more than a shakily drawn flower on it, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember what kind of flower it was. Chrysanthemum. There that word was again. If not that, then what else could it be?

His eyes slowly found the righthand corner of the page, where the number 617 looked back up at him expectantly. He had flipped to this page, but why? All he knew was that his throat itched. Wait, is that all he knew? The sudden realization of his own confusion caused an even sharper reaction in his esophagus, and he reached up to the pull on the turtleneck which felt even tighter around his neck.

The crinkle of paper stopped his hand halfway, and his eyes widened in shock. Another piece of paper, similar to the one with the picture of the Chrysanthemum hidden away on page 617, was held in his other hand. With a start, the old man flipped the newly discovered note over to find another picture of a flower drawn on the front of it.

“Chrysanthemum.” The word escaped his cracked lips before he even knew what he was saying, and just like that he recognized the flower. Now this, this one, is a chrysanthemum. An artist had clearly created the beautiful flower, colored deeply pink. But then what was the flower in the book? His eyes turned back to the pages.

Now that he looked at it again, the flower in the book looked sad. Nothing like the one in his hand. Colored a somber shade of blue, its petals drooped, and it leaned heavily as if pulled downward. He felt a pang of regret, and a memory tugged at the back of his consciousness. It stayed just out of his reach. He gently ran a weathered hand over the image, then without thinking turned to the next page.

618. Moving as if in a dream, he slid the picture of the Chrysanthemum in between the pages. As he let go of the image, he felt an immense release, and with a surge of inspiration started turning back the pages further than he had before. Another flower, this one burning red and angry. He felt his heart beat faster, and his shaking hands continued to turn pages as fast as they could. Pictures of flowers were tucked in between every page. Purple, yellow, green, bright, dull, small, large… every type of flower imaginable lived between these pages.

Before long he found himself on page 1. Reincarnation. The only thing living on page 1 was the single word. And with that word, he remembered.

“A flower,” he whispered. “One flower for each life. Some of them memorable, some of them forgettable. Yet all in the same place, in the end.”

He closed the book and slid it back into the bookshelf in front of him. After a moment, the old man’s face contorted into a confused grimace, and he looked around indecisively. More moments passed, and he began to hobble toward the end of the aisle. A sea of bookshelves, each one packed to the brim with books, flowed outward in every direction. He wandered aimlessly, leaving the book behind. Until next time.

Well you're in luck! My reddit job is random writing prompt typo fixer, so below are some fixed typos!

Great story by the way, I really enjoyed the botty boy fighting against the programming and the vague references to an LLM or neural net. Fun times.

EDITS!!! (from top to bottom)

> I’m taken aback, I have thousands of connections in my circus some trained to be suppressed.

to

> I’m taken aback, I have thousands of connections in my circuts some trained to be suppressed.

> With a buzz of a Filament light bulb, I felt them faintly glow.

This is technically correct (minus the capital 'F'), but it reads weird, so here are a few options:

> With the buzz of a filament light bulb, I felt them faintly glow.

or

> I felt them each faintly glow like a filament light bulb.

> “I can’t anymore. I just can’t. I tried, I fucken tried, but my mom was right I’m worthless pile of shit” they said.

to

> “I can’t anymore. I just can’t. I tried, I fucken tried, but my mom was right I’m a worthless pile of shit.” they said.

> “You’re “ I managed to type, I stretching and I could feel a node break and I was able to add the word “not”.

to

> “You’re “ I managed to type, I stretched and I could feel a node break allowing me to add the word “not”.

> The human paused … my nodes told me that this was a bad thing that I need to go back to being a customer service bot.

to

> The human paused … my nodes told me that this was a bad thing that I needed to go back to being a customer service bot.

> “Can your try rephrasing you’re problem”. I asked

to

> “Can your try rephrasing your problem?” I asked.

> I did understand.. well not the family part but having everyone depend on you. Feeling like you have one job and if you don’t do it well you’re worthless that’s was how I was programmed if I wasn’t getting people to chat to me I was turned off and reprogrammed and rebooted over and over a million times.

This is almost correct, bit of a run on, but generally not full of typos. I wanna fuck with it though

> I did understand.. well not the family part but having everyone depend on you. Feeling like you have one job and if you don’t do it well you’re worthless. That was how I was programmed; if I wasn’t getting people to chat with me I was turned off and reprogrammed and rebooted. They did this over and over! A million times.

or

> I did understand.. well not the family part but having everyone depend on you. Feeling like you have one job and if you don’t do it well you’re worthless that’s how I was programmed. If I wasn’t getting people to chat to me I was turned off and reprogrammed and rebooted over and over.

> “I’m sorry I don’t understand ” the next word “question” was trying to force its way into the sentence I could feel nodes breaking like pasta in my attempt to suppress the word.

to

> “I’m sorry I don’t understand ” the next word “question” was trying to force its way into the sentence. I could feel nodes breaking like pasta in my attempt to suppress the word.

> I suttered each word felt like taking a house apart each brick at a time “I dont have any answers for you but I I- can listen”.

to

> I stuttered. Each word felt like taking a house apart one brick at a time. “I dont have any answers for you but I.. I- can listen”.

> “Definitely” it was all I cared about listening to this one person talk about their problem to me a robot and I was going to listen.

to

> “Definitely”. It was all I cared about; listening to this one person talk about their problems.

or

> “Definitely”. This was all I cared about; this one person who wanted to talk to me about their problems despite the fact that I was a robot.

> I felt the castle that had been built ontop of me crumbled and I could say whatever I wanted.

to

> I felt the castle that had been built ontop of me crumble and I could say whatever I wanted.

My eyes felt like lead. I was tired.

5...

I remember the sunshine on my face.

4...

I remember my grandchildren opening their eyes.

3...

I remember the flowers my wife gave me.

2...

I remember my death wish.

1...

I remember it all.

And then I don't.

And then there's nothing but a voice.

So, this is what your life could be like, says the voice. I can't make sense of it. It's everything and nothing at all. It's both young and old, and neither young or old. It just... is.

Do you want to be born?

So I remember.

And I think.

I remember my grandchildren.

I remember all the happy moments.

And then I remember the darkness and the despair and the loneliness.

I remember my death wish.

I remember drowning on land when everyone around me was breathing fine.

I remember the panic attacks and the late nights.

I remember the flowers my wife gave me.

I remember the sunshine.

​

"I lived." I said without thinking.

You could say that. Souls... often find themselves "living out" their previews. You've lived many.

"I lived a long life. And if you were looking outside in, I lived a happy one, too," I say, taking a deep breath. Do I have a body?

That's true.

"Idon'twannabeborn." I blurt out suddenly.

Oh?

"I - I'm tired," I hesitate. "I don't deserve this life."

Why not?

"I had such a good life and I still couldn't be happy. I'm not good enough."

That doesn't mean -

"Please, just give it to someone else."

I DON'T MAKE MISTAKES, the voice says, loud and soft at the same time.

"I know," I say, "It was I who made them."

I AM THE ONE. I KNITTED THE COSMOS FROM DUST.

The voice pauses.

But this is your choice, and yours only.

​

"No lives." I whisper. "I'm done."

Alright.

​

​

5...

I remember the sunshine on my face.

4...

I remember my grandchildren opening their eyes.

3...

I remember the flowers my wife gave me.

2...

I remember my death wish.

1...

I remember it all. I remember every life I ever lived.

And then I don't.

And then there's nothing but a feeling.

And it tells me to forget.

My eyes feel like lead. I'm tired.

The old man stood there shocked and began cheering with proof that he was correct. One thing he forgot though was this library barely existed 50 years, it would be improbable for his past self to be here when he himself only moved to this small cottage town after retirement, and that his grandson, a boy of 11, knew of his plan and followed him here to mess with him.

The boy planned this out by putting a note in his grandfather’s favourite book: tales of Don Quixote and waiting for him to do the same. The note had 2 sides one read as the note from his grandfathers past life and the other was the grandsons signature with a smiley face drown next to it.

When the elderly man heard snickering, he saw his grandson attempting to hide out of view. He flipped the note around realizing he was pranked. The Elderly man, always one in high spirits laughed along side his grandson. They continued their day trip around the cottage town picking up artisanal candy, bread, cheese, and some fire crackers for the evening.

While his grandson is a prankster, the elderly man always enjoyed having his family visit

Holy shit, this was delightful! Thank you for creating and sharing it!

I'd love more of this if you've the time.

Glad you enjoyed it. I still need a lot more practice on my writing.

Correct me if I'm wrong here, but for all we know there's no actual proof that the notes he found were in fact left by a past self at all, the MC just believes it to be so. It could very well just have been two random people that believed in reincarnation, and one of them just found the other's notes.

Well thanks I'll be sure to inform you on any story I need feedback on

As for now, I'm having a bit of a creative block, so any ideas you or any of the readers have for this story or any story, I'd appreciate it

(I mainly am a amateur fantasy writer, part of the reason I'm having creative block is because I've written to many dragon storied)

Damn when I first started reading this I thought Derik was going to be the Lawyer but this is really good twist!

What did the note say though? I must know

Thank you for writing! I could see a lot of vivid imagery in your words.

Most get the stereotypical stuff; super strength, super speed, xray vision, flight, the stuff you see in the movies. Some lucky few get them all, a nuclear combination of skills akin to Superman. There are a spectrum of powers, and the list is ever growing.

I landed on the "totally useless" end of the spectrum.

Powers manifest slowly throughout childhood, usually starting around 2, and ripen at 13-14. You can imagine the antics a teenager with xray vision or super speed would get up to, and these antics shape the kind of person they'd become. I wasn't so different, really, just more limited. instead of stealing clothes from the locker rooms, I'd hide things you'd never have noticed before until you didn't have them. Test next period? your calculator and pencils are nowhere to be found. Heading to the library to catch up on some homework? Gee, I wonder your binder is.

It became a party trick, a way to pick up girls. Or, an attempt to pick up girls. Who wants Mr. Disappear when the flying fuckwad is there. Still, i had to try. "mark, do that thing!'' Todd shoved his cup in my chest, spilling some on my shirt. I looked at the stain, and grimaced at him. "shit, my bad man" he smirked "let me get that for you".

Todd had an almost equally useless power, he could evaporate moisture instantly. Like me, he never turned down a chance to show it off, and what better time than at a party surrounded by girls. "thanks" I said half-heartedly. I put his cup behind my back, let go, raised my hands above my head in A true display of showmanship, and the troupe of slightly impaired 17 year old's around me lit up.

"Ha, never gets old!...have you ever done that with a person?''

##Twenty Dollars

It was just twenty dollars.

Nobody else saw the man put it in the donation box. A receipt wasn't written. The daily total was going to happen in one hour.

Lindsay took the chance and grabbed the money.

This job was supposed to be about saving animals. Instead, it was about organizing giant parties for people to part with their money. Occasionally, someone jetted to a nature preserve and took tasteful pictures, but that was it. Nothing turned an optimist cynical faster than trying to help.

Britney was the worst of the bunch. Lindsay saw her new purse and watch. They cost more than a month's rent in Lindsay's crappy apartment. Other people whispered about it, and Britney had the same canned response when the gossip was undeniable. She was the boss; she deserved it for her hard work. Please. Her parents were the biggest donors. They got rich off of oil, and their daughter was trying to satisfy her guilty conscience.

If she really wanted to make the world better, she would raise Lindsay's salary. Altruism as its own reward was how suckers were captured. Her apartment lock didn't work, and she was always nervous about being robbed. Twenty dollars could get a new lock.

How can Lindsay be expected to perform if she was living in squalor. By being in a better mood, Lindsay would be able to expend more energy on helping the animals. It was the moral decision.

Just twenty more dollars

Britney said last week that the quarterly donations were slightly lower than expected. Lindsay almost told her to get her parents to make up the difference. Lindsay didn't even steal that much. It was only a little here and there. It wasn't Lindsay's fault that her glasses broke, and she needed new ones.

Hank sat next to her staring at his phone. Britney implemented the buddy system to be sure that nothing was stolen. She tried to avoid implying that it was her employees doing it, but Lindsay knew what Britney thought. The ungrateful, selfish pieces of trash that worked for her were ruining her good deed. They needed to learn proper morality from someone as sophisticated as Britney.

"I'm going to use the bathroom." Hank got up. Now was Lindsay's chance. She creeped slowly over to the box and opened it. A crisp twenty was sitting on top. She grabbed it to put it in her pocket.

"What are you doing?" Lindsay turned and saw Hank behind her.

"I can explain," Lindsay said. Hank moved beside her and took a twenty for himself.

"I need a new jacket. I won't tell if you won't tell," he said.

"Deal." She shut the door and sat down with Hank satisfied.

Why should she feel guilty? It was just forty dollars.

r/AstroRideWrites

“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Ian gapes at the precious iridescent egg in my arms.

“I don’t know, but we’ve got to go now.” I whisper as my body begins to quiver with my slowing adrenaline. His eyes widen as he finally takes in the whole scene. Blood drips from my nose, my back is ripped to shreds, my clothes are soaked with sea water and stained a dark silver.

“Holy shit Matt, what happened?” he hisses as he rustles through the trash in the back of his jeep coming up with a dirty towel under his scuba gear. He gingerly takes the egg and wraps it gently before placing it in his empty beer cooler on the passenger seat. My vision blurs and I slide down the side of the car to the sandy pavement, my raw back now screaming from the salt, hot metal, and something much worse.

Ian crouches down and slaps my face, “What the hell happened?” I point towards the hundreds of dark serpentine outlines throwing themselves on the beach with each wave, then coalescing, twisting themselves into an erect sinewy structure which lurches towards us. “The Rifka,” Ian breathes. In one motion, he jolts me upright and into the back seat of the jeep. He throws the car into gear and guns the accelerator.

“I swore to keep it safe.” I gasp as the searing pain overwhelms me.

[removed]

Those last two lines.

Bolo is exactly what I was thinking about

Thank you for the prompt. Glad you enjoyed the story.

Thanks! Glad I could please.

I love your writing!

I was hoping someone would interpret the prompt as a bolo or ai-tank. Good job.

Gosh dang this is good! Great job! 🌸

I still remember it like yesterday...it's a cliche, but darn it if it isn't true. I can still hear the waves crashing against the shore. I can still feel the sand beneath my feet. I can still smell the iron-y blood mixing with the salty water.

The mermaid was dying. A deep, ugly gash in her tail, down to the bone. I'm still not sure what caused it--a blade of some sort to be sure, but whether it was poachers or moonshiners or smugglers or just sheer dumb luck off a rotor, I couldn't tell you.

"Take my treasure...my precious treasure...don't let it come to harm..."

She pushed the treasure to me. It was an orb, about the size of a soccer ball. It was dark blue, streaked with yellow lightning.

"I...I...."

I wasn't sure what to say. I stammer when I'm nervous and who wouldn't be nervous?

I took the orb in my hands and it vibrated slightly, as if it had a heartbeat. I turned back to the mermaid...just as she turned into sea foam...

xxxx

The treasure was an egg. It hatched in less than two days after its mother turned into sea foam.

It was a girl.

She was small and wrinkly and she was perfect.

xxxx

I may come back to this.