Promises of Tomorrow.

It was daydreaming time again. Brooke sat down, it was her ritual now, musing at the ruins of her carpet in her formerly spotless home. She had been a total doormat, dogsitting her sister's large hairy hound for the past holiday month. Hours after her sister had collected the dog, Brooke was still gazing at the mess. Dog biscuit crumbs, fluffy clumps of dog fur. There were suspicious stains that might have been puddles deposited by a a male dog, under cover of darkness. That adorable naughtikins had even wiped his butt on the beige carpet several times, despite Brooke's valiant attempts to control him.

Her vacuum was on its last legs, so she had stepped up to the promises and recommendations of her gal pals. Brooke had bought a robot, and had been programming it. Meditating on the advertising, she dreamed of never doing housework again. This top of the range model cleaner would glide under couches and beds, vacuum the carpet, mop all the tiled surfaces, and wipe her skirting boards.

Brooke tried to look like the excessively happy females in the ads, so with her messy blonde curls, her slightly faded jeans, she took a deep breath. The robot's batteries were all fired up. its owner unleashed this promise of housework for all the tomorrows of women, and set it free from its station. Smooth, very quiet, the robot's slightly elevated frisbee shape seemed quite capable. Soon the surfaces were gleaming, tidy, defluffed. Oh, joy.

Brooke daydreamed some more while this cleaning miracle did its thing. She was googling the very hot salesman at the robot store, wondering if he was hitched. Meditating on her romantic ambitions to meet and greet in an intuitive manner was not exactly promising her the opportunity to date a soulmate. Maybe Edward, the hi tech manager there, would fulfill some of her yearning. Instagram photos could be more than misleading, but he did have very appealing attractions, such as kissable lips.

Oh, well. By then the robot had returned to its base. Brooke emptied its solvents, and decided to save up for the model that sparkled showers and windows. That one was very expensive, but the digital world promised her tomorrows would be free of mundane chores. The digital display on the robot had a thumbs up emoji. It was all very first world, but Brooke believed in the mega future of women in the world ahead. However, she still had some unspecified longings. Maybe not for hairy hound dogs, but for some explorations of a love that would keep her forever young, promising her the future. All quite normal for the age old female/male tribe, never quite growing up in the mating game.

All was totally okay, even when her sister, her kids and the hound came over on Sunday evenings. Brooke was more than reasonably assured that the subsequent mess on her floors would be taken care of, while she was teaching the next day. So, rising ten minutes early, she unleashed this capable wonder of the future on all her housework, then drove off to her career vocation. Some days are pearls in teaching, and Brooke enjoyed a successful day in her workplace.

Arriving home, she entered the doorway, and immediately squelched in three inches of water. All was sodden. Splashing over the carpet, she heard a loud banging noise in her family room. There she found the robot smashing against her plate glass door to her patio, where her wild birds fluttered, as it was their feeding time. She peered at this robot, and noted its emoji. Bird wings, and its message read, "Sigh freedom." Did the robot want to fly free as a bird, and chase wild doves.? The rituals of housework can do that. Was the robot evolving a spirit in the digtal sphere?

Brooke felt like a bit of an idiot, but she said, "You're a very naughty robot, but you're only having big feelings. Let it all be expressed." She was trying herself to feel gentle emotions with her robot, even if she did not have a clue how to restore her carpet. She tried to pick up her robot, but it skated away, and went to hide under the couch. Brooke knelt down, peering in wonder.

All the robot was doing under the couch, where all the cleaning ladies fear to tread, was whirring. All the while, it seemed to be ejecting all that messy fluff, dog hair and crumbs, and a couple of dead spiders. "Great, robot, great." She finally retrieved her naughty robot with her broom, but her work slacks were saturated. It was too late now to take this robot to the repair shop where she had bought it.

Brooke dried off, and sat on her bed, texting a co-teacher to cover her grade in the morning. No matter how cute she thought Edward was, he was going to have to mend this very reluctant robot. Although it was a sunny Autumn afternoon, quite mild, she turned on the heating system full blast. Brooke sweltered in bed, but the carpet was still very damp at daybreak. Was this naughty robot worth all its promises?

Now it was tomorrow, as Brooke walked into the robot store the minute it opened. Its emoji was a sad face, its display said, "Need repair." Brooke had not been aware of one salient fact, but she did ring more than a few bells for the capable, reassuring Edward. He took the naughty robot under his arm, and offered to knock off early, and bring to her pad a latest robotic digital super sopper. Surprisingly, it had been invented for these tense moments in domestic situations, when the robots slightly malfunctioned and mopped the carpets.

Brooke then took the whole day off from teaching. Edward did come over to rescue her surfaces. She had tidied herself up, unleashed her curly hair, and prepared a cheese board with a rather amusing bottle of red wine. The super sopper was soon hard at work, as Edward casually ran his hands through her hair. Brooke wondered if this was more of a promise for a woman. Her robot was still sitting there at the repair shop, a work in progress.

Edward's lips seemed designed to brush hers, as she nibbled softly on his mouth. His kiss found her ear lobe, and he blew in her ear, before tracing a trail of kisses to her lips. Yes, big feelings were soon evident, here to stay, promising all their tomorrows, satisfying Brooke's subtle longings.

Meanwhile, back at the repair shop for reluctant robots, Brooke's naughty little appliance displayed, unexpectedly, a cupid emoji, with a digital message, "Love match." Perhaps it sighed freedom from its ritual housework destiny, and wanted to learn of such big emotions, a love for the future. Who knows?