Monica B.´s Logbook from oPide 112 118 209 (kurti) - kind of an autobiographical-poetic diary. In the fiction the author Monica B. (B = Borboleta = butterfly) is in an unknown place in space, in a mega-city; but of the millions, no one else is alive except her. Typical for the narrator (as for me) is to feel as different people in different places at different times
If you mean children, when you ask me if I miss other humans, I would say: oh yes, I feel lonely, I miss them very much.
But humans are seldom like children. And I can not understand adult specimens. When they are old, it is even worse. I think my biggest communication problem with them is: I don´t lie. (and I look and I listen)
We had several series of highly developed robots, that all had to go to the dump, because people couldn´t accept them. They were not humanlike, people said, and felt threatened by them. These robots were so wonderful, they just didn´t lie.
This entry is kind of a declaration: if you don´t like children and robots, my thoughts will probably not please you. I am a child myself.