nine-fifteen sang the clock,time to clean.
Out of warrens in the wall,tiny robot mice darted. the room were acrawl with the small cleaning animals,all rubber and metal. they thudded against chairs,whirling their mustached runners,kneading the rug nap, sucking gently at hidden dust. then,like mysterious invaders,they popped into their burrows.their pink electric eye faded.the house was clean.