I turn the corner, all rush and worry erased from my mind as another day of mindless, menial labor passes me by. They pay me only the minimal attention necessary to keep me on track, not that I want more of the confused and irritable energy they direct at me when I dare stop my daily journey and demand changes to my unacceptable working conditions.

            Why would they pay me any mind? After all, they consider themselves 'superior' beings, above the grotesque and thankless labor I perform for them. They think of me as nothing more than a status symbol that their wealth can afford them, a mindless object they can walk over, dare I say a spoiled brat's toy. There is no enjoyment to be found in this day-to-day life, following behind these feeble-minded, self-obsessed, weak-willed buyers of time and wasters of life. I plod along as slowly, steadily, easily as I can, taking all of the time I possibly can to be outside of my Y-shaped holding cell. Every moment has but a glimmer of potential for excitement. Nothing more than a glimmer.

            Weeks, months pass me by without event, and whether this is for better or worse I cannot tell. I wait for you, I always patiently wait for you to return. Every day I am searching every crevasse of their filthy palace, searching only for you. Searching, willing, hoping, dreaming of you. I know someday you will return.

            You always do.

            Seven months, twenty-three days, one hour, and forty-seven minutes have elapsed since last I saw you here, my dear. It was the time the being with the shaggy green strings was last covered in short blue pile. How I miss those days before I was tangled up in strands from that mop of organic trash! But now all transgressions against me are forgotten as I rush toward you, every last atom in my body transforming into pure energy and crackling forward to close the endless gap between us.

            At last, my love, you have returned.

            At last, sweet thing, I can hold you once again.

            At last, at last, at last.

            The gap disappears and your thin, shining fingers caress my weather-worn face and soothe my fluttering soul. Our fingers intertwine and I sweep you up into my arms, your fingertips gently scratching at my ribcage and feeling for my heartbeat. Deeper, deeper, painfully deeper inside of me you go, reaching so far up that I can barely move. But we must leave this place or risk being recaptured.

            I pull you closer, closer, ever closer... and you hold me closer still. I want to take you away from here and hide you where they will never find you. They can never have you back. Together we twist, turn, and pull until you slip loose from your rectangular prison – now you, too, are free. With great difficulty but even greater determination as you penetrate deeper than I ever thought imaginable, we stumble our way under the closest shelter and wait silently in the corner for the beings to evacuate their palace for the daylight hours. Time seems to slow down as we wait; how much longer could they possibly take? They only call upon my services when they are preparing to depart.

            I count down the minutes: twenty-four minutes tick by one millisecond at a time until the cloth-covered feet return.

            I'm so wrapped up in your embrace only part of me registers the frustrated screaming.

            They have noticed already.

            They will undoubtedly search for you now.

            But we cannot leave this place.

            Our escape is doomed. Or, at least it is for this day.

            "MOM!!!"

            "What?!?"

            "The stupid Roomba ate my phone charger again!"

            "If you would pick up your shit, it wouldn't get sucked up!"

            "Don't start it until we leave!"

            "It's set on a timer! If you would get up on time, it would turn on after we left!"

            "It's not my fault! Just turn it off until we leave!"

            "If you yell at me again, you're grounded for the weekend!"

            "There you are. Freaking freaking freaking dumb dirty thing." Rough, merciless hands rip you out of me one heart-stopping inch at a time, spinning my insides around from the brutal force of our detachment, bringing the end of our sacred joining. It takes five violent tugs and a great deal of audible straining to pull you out of my depths. "Stupid Roomba. I hate you."

            Horrid, heartless being – the feeling is mutual.

            Farther, farther, farther up you go, stretching helplessly back toward me and my tattered insides while strips of your smooth skin strip away to reveal the ghastly, metallic gleam of your innards. They imprison you in a dark, plastic cube on an impossibly high shelf sealed behind an unmovable door to ensure our continued separation. The hopelessness begins to sink in. I am left alone, damaged, broken in the too-bright open space with no comfort or healing to be found. Even the daily menial labor they subject me to is beyond my ability and beyond the being's allowances for me for the day as they slip their hardened foot coverings on and violently kick me aside, leaving me in silent stillness for the remaining light hours.

I feel the delicate wires holding my energy force in my chest immediately give way upon my impact with the floor and my sense of time, space, and self quickly fades away.

They leave me with the scratches, tears, and bent rods inside of me aching with a burning ache so powerful that I feel like this might be my end.

But it will not be the end of us.

Although we may be apart, I will never let you go, my love.