The Connected Home by Doug Weller
One more tweak to the network and Mark was finished. A hum began in the kitchen. Perfect timing – he was famished.
Clutching his smartphone, he entered the kitchen. Soft lighting faded up to welcome him and upbeat music began to play out an appropriately celebratory refrain.
‘Like clockwork,’ he thought as the microwave door pinged open.
He was tucking in to a piping hot chicken kiev when the refrigerator started to buzz. ‘With ready meal stocks now running low, an order has been automatically placed on your behalf,’ advised the fridge.
As he finished off the last bite of kiev, the kitchen lights and music began to gradually fade. Retreating to the lounge, he slumped into his easy chair, which immediately began to reposition the lumbar support, moulding to his body.
Idly, Mark flicked on his smartphone. No new messages were waiting. His digital assistant had answered every one automatically. He fumbled with the phone again, and last dialled numbers appeared on the screen. His finger hovered over Sophie’s number. If she could see how everything now worked together so flawlessly, his home working on his behalf, she would finally understand.
Without warning, his chair began to recline. The living room lights quickly dimmed, and the sound of calming ocean waves began to surround him.
On his phone, a new message advised that it was now reading time. A book had been selected especially for him based on his anticipated mood and previous purchases.
Sophie’s number had gone.