The house was silent. The two children were tucked away in their beds murmuring quietly in their sleep. Their parents slept soundly in their room, the only thing that could be heard were the father's soft snores. Everything was peaceful. Then at 7:00 am the house sang. "Tick tock, seven o'clock, time to get up!" Everyone emerged from their beds like robots, not even thinking about what they were doing. It was routine, branded in their minds. They would eat breakfast when the house told them it was ready.
"Seven-nine, breakfast time, seven-nine!" Breakfast waited patiently on the table. There were four plates filled generously with food. Two cups of fresh pressed coffee and two glasses of cold milk all sat, waiting to be drunk. The kids scrambled down the stairs first ready to eat. They sat at the table chugging their milk and eating their eggs. The parents came down shortly after, both dressed in their work attire, ready to start the day. The mother drank her coffee. The father bit into a slice of bacon listening to the house. "Today is the anniversary of Tilita's marriage. Tomorrow is Mr. Greene's birthday. The insurance is payable, as are the water, gas, and light bills."
"It's eight-one o'clock, off to school, off to work, run, run, eight-one!" The children grabbed their backpacks and headed to the front door. The parents held their briefcases and walked out to the car. The weather box quietly sang out, "Rain, rain, go away; rubbers and raincoats for today!" The children listened and quickly put on their rain jackets and boots. They ran outside to wait for the bus to take them school. It arrived at the same time as always. Ready to take them away for a day of learning. The garage door opened. The car was waiting inside. The parents climbed in and drove off to work for the day.
After everyone was gone, the house had taken their dishes off the table and cleaned them in the sink. At nine-fifteen, the clock sang out that it was time to clean. Little metal mice came out of the wall sweeping up microscopic pieces of dust in the house.
At two thirty-five, the parents were home from work. They immediately went to the waiting bridge tables on the patio, sipping martinis and having sandwiches. They played a few rounds of card listening to the quiet music that hummed in the background. When four o'clock came around they were finished with the cards. The tables folded up into the paneled walls.
"Four-thirty, time to play, time to play, four-thirty!" The children were home from school. They ran to their nursery ready to see what adventure the walls would bring them. Today they were in a jungle. Lions purred, zebras raced, and the grass blew in a soft breeze. Eventually the image dissolved and playtime was over. Five o'clock sang through the house. The bathtub filled with warm water. Bubbles cascaded into the clear water. The children cleansed the dirt from the day off themselves, ready to eat dinner.
In the study a fire burned in the hearth. A lit cigar dangled from the father's lips as he took a puff. He quietly sat in front of the fire watching the flames slowly burn the log that rest in the center of the fire.
At nine o'clock it was time for the children to go to sleep. Their beds had been warmed from the hidden circuits, it was getting quite chilly where they lived. They would sleep soundly as they did every night.
"Nine-five, nine-five, which poem would you like to hear this evening, Mrs. McClellan?" the house asked.
She respond with her favorite and sat in the study beside her husband. They both listened intently to the poem. A soft hum of music lulled softly in the background of the voice as it read the poem.
At ten o'clock the mother and father went to their bedroom and went to sleep. The house was silent. until seven o'clock the next morning, when they began the same routine again.
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