When the Princess died they were distraught. That put it mildly. It seemed to both of them that a bright shining light had gone from the world. When their world was cold and harsh they imagined her in a warm, bright room arranging flowers or reading to children with AIDS. Sometimes on TV her eyes would meet the camera lens for a split second like a flash of recognition, and they believed she saw them. They sent flowers. They would have been there, but the tickets were all gone.
When they started recreating the Princess, it wasn't that they were denying her death - they just wanted to extend her life. Being computer professionals helped. Over the months the Princess blossomed again in their Mac.
They asked her questions and supplied her with answers. She had a schedule for every day of the year.
Sometimes she shared her feelings with them about her loneliness. At first it was occasional, but in the following months these oubursts of unhappiness became more and more frequent.
Each blamed the other for her unhappiness.
``It was you programmed in that lonely sequence - now it's off on its own - picking up stuff off the web and modifying it - it's out of control!''
``He's killing me!'' the Princess said, breaking in on them and taking over the screen, ``you have to help me!''
``What can we do?'' the man said.
``Kill the bastard!'' the Princess screamed.
The woman reached down and unplugged the computer. ``We have to take her down,'' she said.
It took most of the night to destroy all of the files. Day was dawning when they dragged the Princess icon to the trash can. She seemed to be gone, but occasionally she still shows her face just long enough to be recognized. She's seen on terminals around the world, and at least once in space when a Cosmonaut gone mad with loneliness caught for two seconds her devastating smile.