In my world, quiet is a luxury, owned by none. 

Besides certain criminals of course. These days, everything talks. Billboards, pictures, your bed, the walls. Even bandages. And, if no one knew better, it might be a bit creepy. But, since no one does, it’s just the world as we know it. Day by day. 

And this specific day that I speak of started at promptly eight in the morning, when my bed woke me up. Jerk wad. 

“Gydia, time to wake up. It’s 8AM and the forecast for today is sixty five degrees and cloudy with a slight breeze,” my bed said in the soft female voice I programmed it in. 

Before you ask, yes, my name is Gydia. And that’s pronounced Ji-dee-ah.  

As set by my preferences, soft light began to illuminate the room and my curtains slid open, revealing the city scape. My bed vibrated gently after five minutes of my weight not shifting, as a reminder. I groaned nonsensically and rolled towards the edge of my bed. 

“Good morning then, Gydia. Today is sure to be great!” 

“Sure it is,” I grumbled. “Coffee Pot, latte, extra light, with almond milk.”

“Sure thing, mate. Coming right up,” my coffee pot chirped in his Australian accent. 

“Gydia, come on over darling. Let’s get you ready for work, love,” my closet intoned. 

I shambled over to the full length mirror and tapped in the center. A glow pulsed out from the center. 

“Closet, show outfit one.”

“Sure thing.” Theater curtains appeared on the mirror screen and then dramatically opened to reveal the first outfit, digitally displayed for my judgment. 

“Closet, show outfit two.”

“Ah, not to your liking? Not to worry, I’ve got just the thing.” 

I rolled my eyes and walked over to my coffee maker and grabbed my latte, prepared just as I asked. I heard the swoosh of curtains opening and I turned to see what the second ensemble would be. 

“Hmmm. Closet, apply outfit two to my model,” I commanded. 

“Of course.” 

A replica of me appeared on the mirror screen, dressed in outfit two, completed with accessories and a complementary hair do. I nodded in satisfaction. 

I stepped into the cylindrical tube just to the left of the mirror and allowed to door to slide shut. 

“Closet, select outfit two.” 

I heard a series of whooshes and clicks and then I was nimbly helped into a tasteful pantsuit. The door slid open and I walked out. I stood in front of the now blank mirror screen and appraised myself. 

“Closet, what jewelry would suit this outfit?” I asked. 

“I believe some thick gold hoops and a simple, thin necklace in a matching color would suit this outfit nicely. No bracelets needed thanks to the long sleeves, well suited for todays weather.”

“Thank you, Closet.” 

I stepped over to my jewelry case and took a sip of my latte, then placed it down on my nightstand. 

“Nightstand, keep the latte warm.”

“No problem,” my nightstand said. 

“Jewelry box, open up.”

“Morning, Miss Gydia. I’ll require the password before unlatching,” it told me. 

I sighed. Naturally, this was a safety procedure, but it took time out of my already rushed mornings. I whispered the password and three locks unlatched. _Click, click, click. _I hooked on my necklace and earrings, as recommended by my closet. After I slipped on my shoes, I headed towards the door. It opened as it sensed my approach.

“Amaya, I’m leaving now.” 

Amaya was the name of my Home Control system, or HoCo, and I’d set the sentence “I’m leaving now” to trigger my “away” preferences. 

“Goodbye Gydia. Have a lovely day,” Amaya responded. 

As I had programmed, the lights dimmed, then flicked off. All the doors and drawers I had left open shut slowly and the window curtains _swooshed _open to let in the morning sunlight. 

I strode out of the door and into the hallway.