My robot never wants to play. Just patrols the perimeter all day and night. "Perimeter secured," it reports. Yes, yes, I'm certain the perimeter is quite fine.

It doesn't even need to be outside. Its sensors are so finely tuned that it can notice when I'm biting my fingernails from 100 meters away. But what is the point of that? I don't need to know I'm biting my fingernails; I know when I'm biting my fingernails. It is built to impress, I think. Do one thing really well and a half a million other things that never need doing at all. Strooth, I've known people like that. Most are considered educated.

Despite these misgivings, I hope to be considered educated also. Actually educated is ideal, even if being considered educated is sufficient momentum for most lifetimes.

There is little left to learn within the perimeter, secure as it is. I'll have to leave it soon. Just push through the tall grass and go. As I think of it, I wonder if I can. My robot, it's not really mine. It's just there, eternally guarding the perimeter. It doesn't come inside. I'm not sure what will happen if I step into the outside. What if the perimeter follows? Ah, but what if it doesn't? Will I be shot in the back and nourish the dry ground with vital fluids? I expect to find out soon.

I wonder if my robot will regret never wanting to play.