The robots
The robots have called us in the middle of a passionate conversation.
"Oh, our food is ready."
"Already? We've barely ordered...
You didn't answer, just shrugged and got up. I had the chance to watch your figure, your comeliness, draw itself for me.
I honestly didn't care about the food. I just wanted you to get back as soon as possible, tray or no tray. To be in my presence again. And I in yours.
"Hm, the order isn't ready yet," you said when you finally returned, "apparently even the robots make mistakes.
"And interrupt the conversation," I muttered.
"Yes! Bloody machines..."
As if it had heard us, the round robot waiter continued to beep mechanically in the background. What's more, he was soon joined by others. The whole restaurant was singing its mechanical chorus.
Some covered their ears, others stood up, their eyes searching confusedly for the flesh-and-blood waiters. And nothing. There was no one in sight. Just you and me and a few other lost souls waiting for their orders.
I searched for your eyes, you were already waiting for me with your gaze, and then it happened... Silence. Beep, beep, beep...
"Welcome to our restaurant," squealed a sound made up of short beeps.
"You're all on the menu today!"
