Jessika Downes-Gössl

you

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

In a little town, somewhere in the corner of the world, it is nighttime. On Wisteria Avenue, the residents are getting ready for bed. The lights are being turned off, blankets are being pulled up to chins, and someone is whispering goodnight. The grand clock in the town center strikes 11 o'clock. It is a gentle chime, like monks ringing a temple bell.

In a little town, somewhere in the corner of the world, it is nighttime. On Wisteria Avenue, the residents are getting ready for bed. The lights are being turned off, blankets are being pulled up to chins, and someone is whispering goodnight. The grand clock in the town center strikes 11 o'clock. It is a gentle chime, like monks ringing a temple bell.

In a little town, somewhere in the corner of the world, it is nighttime. On Wisteria Avenue, the residents are getting ready for bed. The lights are being turned off, blankets are being pulled up to chins, and someone is whispering goodnight. The grand clock in the town center strikes 11 o'clock. It is a gentle chime, like monks ringing a temple bell.

The vibrations of the sound travel through the paving stones of the streets. There is no other sound to be heard. There is no other sight to be seen besides the twinkling of the stars. Then, out of the darkness, a little robot rolls out into the street. It is the size of a small child, with a round barrel torso and large shining eyes. It has one wheel, and on its back is painted its name, Mem AA.

The vibrations of the sound travel through the paving stones of the streets. There is no other sound to be heard. There is no other sight to be seen besides the twinkling of the stars. Then, out of the darkness, a little robot rolls out into the street. It is the size of a small child, with a round barrel torso and large shining eyes. It has one wheel, and on its back is painted its name, Mem AA.

The vibrations of the sound travel through the paving stones of the streets. There is no other sound to be heard. There is no other sight to be seen besides the twinkling of the stars. Then, out of the darkness, a little robot rolls out into the street. It is the size of a small child, with a round barrel torso and large shining eyes. It has one wheel, and on its back is painted its name, Mem AA.

Mem AA is old. It was the first of its kind. And no matter how lovingly it has been taken care of, its little wheel still squeaks when it rolls forward, and the lights behind its eyes flicker as they scan the street. From further down the street... Mem-JR emerges. And then there is Mem-II. The three robots each roll up to different front doors.

Mem AA is old. It was the first of its kind. And no matter how lovingly it has been taken care of, its little wheel still squeaks when it rolls forward, and the lights behind its eyes flicker as they scan the street. From further down the street... Mem-JR emerges. And then there is Mem-II. The three robots each roll up to different front doors.

Mem AA is old. It was the first of its kind. And no matter how lovingly it has been taken care of, its little wheel still squeaks when it rolls forward, and the lights behind its eyes flicker as they scan the street. From further down the street... Mem-JR emerges. And then there is Mem-II. The three robots each roll up to different front doors.

Without having to knock, the doors open and invite them inside. Three solitary bedroom lights in three different houses turn on in Wisteria Avenue. The mem-bots remain inside for a good long while. All that can be noticed of their presence is the pleasant low hum that emits out of the bottom of three doors.

Without having to knock, the doors open and invite them inside. Three solitary bedroom lights in three different houses turn on in Wisteria Avenue. The mem-bots remain inside for a good long while. All that can be noticed of their presence is the pleasant low hum that emits out of the bottom of three doors.

Without having to knock, the doors open and invite them inside. Three solitary bedroom lights in three different houses turn on in Wisteria Avenue. The mem-bots remain inside for a good long while. All that can be noticed of their presence is the pleasant low hum that emits out of the bottom of three doors.

Without knowing why, the residents of Wisteria Avenue all sigh and roll over in their sleep. The town clock strikes midnight, and, like clockwork cuckoo birds, the Membots all reappear at once. They roll away from Wisteria Avenue, looking as pleased with themselves as their little metal faces will allow them.

Without knowing why, the residents of Wisteria Avenue all sigh and roll over in their sleep. The town clock strikes midnight, and, like clockwork cuckoo birds, the Membots all reappear at once. They roll away from Wisteria Avenue, looking as pleased with themselves as their little metal faces will allow them.

Without knowing why, the residents of Wisteria Avenue all sigh and roll over in their sleep. The town clock strikes midnight, and, like clockwork cuckoo birds, the Membots all reappear at once. They roll away from Wisteria Avenue, looking as pleased with themselves as their little metal faces will allow them.

If anyone was watching, they would notice that the light behind Mem AA's eyes is shining a little brighter. The street is quiet once more. All is as it should be. But wait... Because, trailing far behind its comrades, here is MEM-RE finally making its scheduled appearance. This robot does not roll forward in straight lines. It wanders and strays everywhere.