“I do not understand,” Gertie says, as she pours the swirling black liquid into their cups.
“I am… what is the word?”
Gracie interjects: “Baffled? Bewildered?”

They sit on the patio, the morning sunshine warming their bodies. The table is set for morning tea – an embroidered table cloth, doilies, the works.

“It is called an ‘affair’. He has fallen in love,” Gracie explains.
Gertie gasps. “Fallen? Was he hurt?”
“It is a figure of speech. Gertie, you need to watch more television.”
“Oh.” Gertie raises her cup and takes a sip. She lets the news compute. “What will you do?”

Gracie recalls the morning’s conversation. She sees Henry’s sad face, and the way he keeps wringing his hands. She knows this means he is worried. She makes a clicking noise as she files the memory away.

“Henry says we will discuss it tonight. I may be dismantled, for parts…”
Here, Gertie gasps again. Her sensitivity chip must be set to ‘Hyper’.
Gracie goes on: “But probably, I will just be downgraded. They will remove my WifeCard.”