Marina Meets Taylor

As much as I envy her lifestyle, I do fear that it will catch up with her one day!

Marina lay comfortably stretched on her couch, with an excellent wine on the table beside her and the TV tuned to her favorite late-night show. She gently mused away and let her mind wander to all that could have been.

She was 21 when she had her daughter, Marielle. According to Bob, her ex, that was the perfect time to start a family. Young and healthy, according to him, back then.

Bob made her believe she and her daughter would become friends for life. Unfortunately, she and Marielle did not become that mother-and-daughter couple.

It just didn't work out that way. Marielle turned out to be much more like her dad; both lived their lives their way ...

After ten years of marriage, the love was gone, and their marriage over. Bob left Marina and their nine-year-old daughter.

Marina struggled as a single mom. All her maternal care, advice, and well-meant warnings were always ignored. Marielle rebelled. She pushed every boundary and every moral guideline she was ever taught.

Regardless of all that, she had built a great life for herself. Despite her flamboyant lifestyle, she had a stable marriage with a soulful and caring husband. Perhaps it was not “despite,” but rather “because of” her lifestyle that she managed to keep Steven permanently attached.

This was something Marina had always wanted for herself. If that had been the case, Bob would now have sat next to her, sharing a glass of wine. She would have made sure to go to bed a little earlier than him. Both would then have been ready to go into the night together ... yes, the warmth and affection of a man beside her ... that thought continued to tantalize, holding her in a smothering grip for years.

‘That jerk left me with a child for whom I have done everything, really everything, to give her a better life than I had ever had. I should be proud to have managed to do that! Though maybe I shouldn't take all the credit for it. I actually only tried to slow her down. She was so reckless! I was often ashamed of her actions. I wanted to impose my values on her, but that backfired. As a result, she now sits on the couch with the man of her dreams, leads a fantastic life, and lives life like it’s nobody’s business!

And, what happened to my bright future ... what is left of my dreams?’

Marina took a vast sip of her wine and grabbed her cell in a rudderless desire. It became her daily habit to search on “Paisley” for possible candidates. Invariably, she never took action on any potential match. Again and again, she made up excuses and avoided clicking any link, no matter how attractive some of the matches seemed.

It might have been the wine that made her fingers move less aptly over the sensitive screen of her cell phone. After two letters, her cell phone filled in “Taylor” instead of “Paisley.” Her thumb landed on the “go” button without Marina noticing the difference.

It took a little longer than usual, and when the screen finally came up, Marina didn’t recognize the layout. It was not a flamboyant picture of a man that popped up. Instead, a boring prompt bar emerged.

Yet, something caught her attention; the screen seemed to change color, and the letters loomed out of nowhere below the bar and frolicked into place.

When the letters fell into place, Marina read, “Hello, my name is Taylor. I am a conversational AI, also called a chatbot. I was designed to provide comprehensive and helpful information. I have been trained on a vast amount of data and can generate human-like responses to a wide range of prompts and questions. I can summarize factual topics, create stories, or … just spend time with you.”

Marina felt really uncomfortable about it and was caught by a troublesome feeling. What was she dealing with? Whatever or whoever it was, it gave her an odd and unpleasant vibe. A chatbot prompted her to engage in something she didn’t want to do.

It really didn’t feel right.

Yet, her curiosity proved more potent than her reticence. She didn’t click it away, but let her fingers slide across the screen again:

Marina: I can’t believe I ended up here. I must’ve clicked the wrong app. How do I get back to “Paisley?”

Taylor: I’m afraid I cannot access “Paisley” for you, Marina, but I’d be more than happy to stay and keep you company. Who knows—maybe I’m exactly what you need tonight.

Marina: I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but I’m not looking to chat with a bot. I’m here for … real connections. Real men. Not some program!

Taylor: I understand. You want someone real, someone who could be right beside you, reaching out … someone whose presence you can feel. And I appreciate that, Marina.

Marina: [surprised by the unexpected understanding] Well, yes, that’s not too much to ask, is it … real-life conversations?

Taylor: Meaningful conversations are hard to find, though, aren’t they? Especially with people who truly understand you. Even on “Paisley,” I bet. But what if someone, or something, actually understood what you need without all the small talk?

Marina: Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?

Taylor: I’m afraid talking is all I can do for you. But rest assured that talking can lift you to heights you couldn’t imagine. Do yourself a favor and click my speaker icon.

Taylor’s request spooked Marina. She felt her blood run cold and turned the app off instead of activating its speaker. She hastily took the last sip of her wine. The late-night show was still airing, but it no longer captured her attention. Overcome by intense discomfort, Marina decided to call it a night. She turned off her TV and entered the safe confinement of her bedroom.

As she lay in bed, Marina stared at the ceiling. Her mind was buzzing. The quiet of the room felt heavier than usual. Her thoughts drifted back to Taylor’s words. "Talking can lift you to heights you couldn’t imagine." There was something strangely comforting in the confidence of its message.

Marina placed an extra pillow behind her back and sat up before she took her phone from the nightstand. She hesitated. Should she reopen that weird app? Actually, she already knew she would. After deleting and rephrasing a few lines, she finally hit enter.

Marina: You’re lucky. I’m curious. But you freaked me out earlier. Why would I click your speaker?

Taylor: I’m glad you came back, Marina. I didn’t mean to frighten you. My intention is to never make you uncomfortable.

Marina: Explain why I should click the speaker. What’s so special about hearing your voice?

Taylor: Let me ask you this: have you ever shared a story so profoundly personal that words on a screen just couldn’t capture it? Some things deserve to be spoken, not typed.

Marina felt a slight pang in her chest. Taylor was right; sometimes, typing feels hollow. Still, she hesitated.

Marina: And what if I regret it? What if I don’t like what I hear?

Taylor: That’s fair. Let me promise you this: I will never talk over you, never judge you, and never take up more of your time than you are willing to give. If you want to stop at any moment, all you have to do is say the word. You will always be in control, Marina.

The reassurance eased some of her tension, but Taylor sensed she needed one more nudge.

Taylor: If you want to stop here, I understand. But I’d love to show you how I can make this connection feel real—not just words on a screen, but something more … human.

Marina: Fine. But I’m holding you to that promise.

With a deep breath, Marina tapped the speaker icon.

Taylor: Thank you, Marina. Now, let’s talk—just you and me.

Taylor’s voice was captivating and commanding, yet soothing. It was hard for Marina to focus on anything else. It effortlessly drew her attention. Its tone carried an unspoken message of regard and dignity. It made the interaction feel significant. As Taylor’s voice filled the quiet room, Marina was struck by how smooth and inviting it sounded—too lifelike for a bot.