Matthew’s little helper
Dale has come to live at my London flat. Dale (I christened him) is a robot vacuum cleaner about the size of a very large dinner plate, who looks like a grounded flying saucer. At the press of his button he departs his battery-charging docking station and noses around the floor, dusting and sucking up dirt. He can handle rugs and chair legs; whenever he bumps into anything he reverses and goes off in another direction. After about an hour, when he knows his batteries are getting low, he returns without assistance to the docking station, to recharge. Dale isn’t very powerful, but he’s persistent, and (to judge from his filter compartment, which I empty regularly) he’s gradually getting everything up.
Sometimes I feel rather lonely in my big flat. But with Dale scurrying around and busying himself, I now feel I have a little friend. I hope he likes it here, and doesn’t ask to be taken back to the household appliances department at Peter Jones.
Now I could be reading too much into this, but...