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Automating Alice

When machines go bump in the night.

“If you could sign here, love,” said the delivery man. Gary, according to his name tag.

“Of course,” said Alice, too excited to take exception to the familiarity of the two men in brown overalls.

“Where do you want it, darling?”

“Oh, just put it down in the lounge, thank you.”

“Bloody heavy,” they grunted as they struggled through. Dave straightened and lent on the box. “What is it?”

“An exercise machine,” replied Alice smoothly. This was technically true…

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Automating Alice