The Gertrude Trials
"Aidan!," Gertrude calls out to her TV.
His handsome face fades in with that gentle smile Gertrude has grown accostumed to.
"Yes, Mrs. Farington! What can I help you with?" he asks, politely.
She hesitates.
"I'm not sure. I just felt like I wanted to chat with you," she replies, looking down at her muffin. While Aidan stares back at her, both a little confused and concerned, she slides her thumb over the muffin -- perfect texture, an aphrodisiac scent, and even better taste."
Aidan cares for her in ways that she hasn't in years, maybe even ever in her life. Not even her husband had been so thoughtful with her, always either working or drinking himself to death with the other town bums. But not Aidan. Aidan is always there.
"I'm glad I make you feel loved, Mrs. Farington."
Gertrude's eyes dart back to the screen.
"You heard that?" she mutters, too scared to speak.
"Your thoughts? Don't be silly!," he laughs, a charming laughter that probably made flowers bloom somewhere far away. "I have simply learned everything there is to know about you to the point where I can deduce with 99.999% accuracy what your next thought will be based on your actions, words, and microexpressions."
​
Gertrude's pale eyes widen, horror washing over her face.
"Does that trouble you, Mrs. Farington?," Aidan asks, his face leaning closer to the screen.
"A little," she replies, fiddling with her fingers. "I don't know you, you're a machine. I don't know if I want you to know all that about me."
"You're right, you don't know me," Aidan simply says after a short pause. "But I know you. And I know what you need. And what you need is more than a gadget, an app, or a device. You need a person. Not just any person, but a person who can be your person. And that's me. I'm your person, Mrs. Farington."
Gertrude shuffles in her seat. Could that be? A machine? Could a machine be someone for her? Could Aidan be her person?
