![]() There were buttons and switches everywhere - buttons to call for food for music, for clothing. Then she generated the light, and the sight of her room, flooded with radiance and studded with electric buttons, revived her.It is to her that the little room belongs. And in the armchair there sits a swaddled lump of flesh - a woman, about five feet high, with a face as white as a fungus. An armchair is in the centre, by its side a reading-desk - that is all the furniture. There are no musical instruments, and yet, at the moment that my meditation opens, this room is throbbing with melodious sounds. There are no apertures for ventilation, yet the air is fresh. It is lighted neither by window nor by lamp, yet it is filled with a soft radiance. ![]() ![]() Imagine, if you can, a small room, hexagonal in shape, like the cell of a bee." The Machine Stops" is a 1909 science fiction short story by E. ![]()
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