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Quiet. Pure Utter silence. As Cloe walked around her house that morning she felt as if she were the only person on the planet. She parted the blinds in her kitchen just enough to peer out into the world. It had an eerie beauty to it, the sky was a perfect blue, and the grass a glowing green. Small white puffs of clouds littered the sky, but that was it. No birds flew, no bugs buzzed, and there wasn't a single car in the streets. Cloe sighed and let the blinds fall back into place. She walked to the sink and turned the faucet on to fill a glass.

She sat on her couch and fliped on the morning news. The mono-toned news anchor rattled off some stock numbers that were unimportant to her. "In other news, there has been another murder in the "Masked Metropolotin Serial Killer" case. Cloe rolled her eyes and zoned out. "The weather today is going o be a mild 150 degrees, with no chance of a storm. All humans are still adviced of course, to wear thier maximum protection wear and stay hydrated. All robots must remain indoors until evening unless travling to, or living in a metro-dome where the weather will remain a constant 85 degrees."

Cloe huffed and flipped the TV off. "Damn Robots. And damn fucking Metro-domes."

"Miss, you father is calling, shall I patch him through?" A slender, beautiful woman dressed in all white with blonde hair pulled back into a sleek bun approched her.

"No. Tell him I am busy or something."

"Very well." The woman walked away. Cloe stood and walked up to a mirrior. She examined herself cloesly, trying to pin-point a flaw, any flaw. She ran her hands through her pin strait brown hair and pulled it back to get a better view of her face. Her skin was soft and blimish free, her eyes chocolate brown and almond shaped. Her eyebrows were naturaly arched and her check bones well defined. Her lips were pouty and covered perfectly white teeth.

Her figure was that of an hour galss, curved in the right places, and thin in the others. Even a dirty white wife-beather and gray swaet pants looked haut-couture on her. She sighed and droped her hair back to her shoulders. "I swear if I didn't know better I would think I was one of them." The words were venomous, and she practicly spat them.

"Miss." Cloe jumped. "Your father says he knows you are home and he needs to speak to you now."

"Fine, patch him through."