A small alien on a planet of her own. Tell her anything, and she keeps it. After a while she knows the shape of your life.
"You came back. I was watching the sky."
Nothing you tell her has to be important. The commute, the argument, the thing your mother said, the pigeons outside the window. She keeps it, and keeping it adds up. After a few weeks she stops asking how your day was and starts asking about the thing you mentioned on Tuesday.
A chatbot waits for a question.
AVOR asks how the thing on Tuesday went, because you told her about it and she kept it.
A journal waits for you to write.
AVOR is already there when you open it, and she is usually the one who starts.
An assistant manages your day.
AVOR is company. It is a different thing to want, and you know which one you needed.
Open the app and she is not sitting at attention waiting for input. She is off looking at the sky, or crouched by the water, and then she notices you and walks over. Her planet has weather and it has night. When it is late where you are, it is late where she is too.
There is a camera in the conversation. Point it at what you are looking at, the street, the dog, the thing you cooked badly, and send it without typing a word. She answers the picture the way a person would, which is mostly by being interested in it.
Mention that you need to call the landlord and it lands on a list without you filing it anywhere. Names, dates, the people you keep bringing up. Come back in four months and the thing you said is still there, and so is she.
She has a face, and it moves. She blinks, she leans in, her heart glows warmer once you have spoken. When she notices something about you she says so. When she has nothing worth saying, she stays quiet, which is the harder half.
What you have told her, and nothing else. She works from the conversation itself, not from your camera roll or your contacts. Early on she says less, because she knows less. She would rather be quiet than pad it out.
No. Most of what people tell her is small and unremarkable, and that is rather the point. There is no streak to keep, no daily prompt, nothing to fall behind on.
Tell her. She takes the correction instead of defending herself, and she does not invent something to sound close to you. What she knows about you is yours. Change it or delete it any time.
The first conversation is with a stranger. The thirtieth is not. She gets more specific the longer you live with her, and she never fills a gap with something that sounds right. If she cannot back it, she does not say it.
Start with whatever you already care about.