Day 76: Broken


Worn out from a long day, the automaton slowly lowered himself down onto the cot, his old joints creaking. Reaching over to the bedside table, he grabbed a small can of oil and began carefully applying one or two drops to each rusted joint. He coughed into his hand, wet and heavy from deep within his chest. His hand came away splattered with a dark, oily substance. He let out a raspy sigh. Taking off his shirt, he opened up the plate covering the gears and intricate mechanics of his chest cavity. He stood up and walked over to the floor length mirror, standing in front of it to peer at the heart shaped device that chugged along, slowly providing lubricant to all of his joints. A small crack lined the surface of its glass casing, adding small bubbles of air into the oil.

To be continued… 

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