The Toy Robot could no longer remember what its life had been like before gears and buttons. Before it was passed between toy stores and curio shops. It just knew it had been a person before it was plastic, and it longed to be a person again. But it would settle just for moving again, even at the press of its buttons and the turn of its gears. Unfortunately, something in it broke years ago, rendering it motionless and quiet; a broken toy collecting dust in a flea market stall.

Then, it saw him. A tall young man with black hair and a thoughtful gaze. And he saw her.

“Who are you?” He asked, his mouth agape, pushing aside the smaller toys. He brushed his hand across the Toy Robot’s cheek, wiping away a layer of dust, revealing plastic skin beneath.

The Toy Robot had an answer somewhere in her memory. Something she was programmed to say. She just couldn’t access it. But his touch, his voice, was activating something within her. Something long dormant.

Taking her hand, he pulled her arm up.

Click.Click.

She had forgotten she clicked when she moved. The man took her other arm and tried to move it, but a gear in her socket simply wouldn’t allow it. An Owner a long time ago had tried to get her to pose, moving that arm until the gear snapped with a sickening crunch. But the customer didn’t do that; he felt resistance and let go.

The customer began to press her buttons, testing them. To him, they just clicked. To the Toy Robot, they changed her. Play Mode. Story Mode. Performance Mode. Learn Mode. Each one changed her personality, what she was supposed to say, how she was supposed to act. With each button press, he was playing with her, and the Toy Robot longed to play back. If only she could.

As the customer tried to bring the Toy Robot to life, her Owner noticed his interest.

“That wretched thing hasn’t worked for years,” the grouchy old woman said.

The customer never looked away from the Toy Robot, tilting her chin up, and looking into her eyes with care and curiosity. “That’s ok. I can fix her.”