Little Robots

View from a hotel room, Coblenz, Germany.

View from a hotel room, Coblenz, Germany.

Like many business hotels, room fittings were functional but tasteless, the colour schemes leaving me wondering whether the interior designers are colourblind. It was the only room I could find available at the last minute in Coblenz. There were numerous conferences in the city, and September is also a very popular month for city tours, so accommodation was hard to find. I was grateful to have found accommodation at all.

It was quiet outside. I opened the window, then climbed into bed.

I did not sleep well. In the early hours, the road below my window seemed to spring to life. Motorbikes thundered by, brakes squealed as heavy lorries came to a halt at the traffic lights below my window, the perpetual scream of car engines driven by office workers late for work again.

The morning was fresh and bright. Despite lack of a good sleep, I felt fine. Peering out of the window, I could see people marching to work. Many carried little briefcases, worse for wear, probably filled with lunchboxes and a canned drink, or presentations destined to be forgotten once the office day comes to an end. From my perspective, they looked like little robots, programmed to carry those little briefcases along the same route, at the same time, day in, day out. The thought made me shiver.

The hotel door closed behind me. Breakfast was waiting.