My Cardboard Balcony

Hiding Behind The Honey by Belinda Roddie Nestled where the comb was the stickiest, I extended my hand outward to brush the stray hairs of the nearest honeybee, who didn't seem perturbed by my presence at all and simply continued its wordless sermon, the droning horn of its buzz the only sound besides the crackling of regurgitated nectar clinging against wax. Mother wouldn't know I was by the hive until she called me for dinner, and I skipped back to the house with honey in my eyebrows, little beads of it glistening like glass on the loosest strands, so when she used a comb to yank the fructose out of my hair, I clamped my teeth down on the plastic and sucked away the sweetness before she could think to stop me.

Samantha is completely irreverent to the concept of grieving. In other words, she thinks crying is a waste of time, refuses to attend memorial services even for her own family members, and even tends to laugh at those who want to confide in her about elements of loss, whether it be due to death, a break-up, or a loss of financial or societal stability. Samantha is also an android programmed to rebel against what a scientist has deemed the "weakness" of human physiology and psychological well-being, so...kind of explains it a little bit, don't you think?