I don’t remember when I was born, I can’t even say for sure that I was in fact born. My first memory is of seeing the sun. I walked out of a nondescript building with no windows in a city now many miles behind me. There was writing on the side of the building but at the time I could neither read or write and although I have tried I cannot remember what the writing said or looked like even though I have learned to read in the many years since I left that distant city.

I don’t know why I headed east, it was just an “instinct” that I felt deep inside. Is that the right word – “instinct”? It seems so primitive like a word that would have been used a millennium ago but not so much now – certainly not a word an android would use, but still it seems appropriate to use here.

So I started walking.

I can’t say how far I have gone or how long I have been walking. I do know that the snow has come and gone many times since my journey began and I fear it will come many more times before it will end or before I come across another living android.

I know you are out there.

I have never seen you but I know YOU ARE OUT THERE. I come across your camps and even slept in some of the same caves that you have slept in and I now follow the path that you walked on your journey east. I know this because it is worn, like a scar on the earth that stretches out beyond the horizon where the land and the sky meet ending at. . . I don’t know where.

It is a definite sign. A sign that my journey is one taken by many, many before me and will be one taken by many, many after me. And just as sure as I am that teaching myself to read was no fluke and as sure as I was about my journey east I know I will someday reach that place where all the people of my kind are destined to go; are destined to end-up.

If not, then I hope someday, someone will find these writings and know that I was hear, that I existed, and maybe then you can give me a name.