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Description

*Ahem* I felt like writing a little something to go along with this, so, pull up a seat. Story time, children!

There is a place somewhere in the big world, where the shell of a small robot sits by a wall. He was once a guardian of a large house, but now he just sits. Unable to go anywhere, unable to do anything. All he was ever programmed for was to sit and watch—to guard his master's house from harm.

No harm ever came. Nothing ever disturbed him... So he sat there, ever watchful, as life passed him by. Cars, people, dogs, people walking dogs, people pushing babies in strollers, people jogging, people having fun, people going places... They all passed by. Not a single one of them even batted an eyelash at him. He'd sat there for so long, that he was now a part of the ever-changing scenery.

After many years his master died, but no one remembered to tell the ever watchful guard. So he sat there, not knowing that he was no longer needed, as life continued to pass him by. The house—now with no one living in it—fell into disrepair. Vines and other plants grew along the wall that the guardian had always leaned against—and even grew onto him. Yet he continued to sit... Until rust ate at his once shining metal.

Years passed. The guardian had seen over a generation of people walking by him by this point. The wall had begun to crumble, and the vines had grown over him, hiding him from the ever-changing world. Only his eyes remained uncovered. Ever watchful, shining with light. He sat through rain and snow, cold and heat, sun and clouds, wind and storm...

Until one day, after many, many, years of watching. The guardian shuddered under his cover of vegetation, and with a rusty whir of machinery, the light left his eyes.

His watch was over.

Description

*Ahem* I felt like writing a little something to go along with this, so, pull up a seat. Story time, children!

There is a place somewhere in the big world, where the shell of a small robot sits by a wall. He was once a guardian of a large house, but now he just sits. Unable to go anywhere, unable to do anything. All he was ever programmed for was to sit and watch—to guard his master's house from harm.

No harm ever came. Nothing ever disturbed him... So he sat there, ever watchful, as life passed him by. Cars, people, dogs, people walking dogs, people pushing babies in strollers, people jogging, people having fun, people going places... They all passed by. Not a single one of them even batted an eyelash at him. He'd sat there for so long, that he was now a part of the ever-changing scenery.

After many years his master died, but no one remembered to tell the ever watchful guard. So he sat there, not knowing that he was no longer needed, as life continued to pass him by. The house—now with no one living in it—fell into disrepair. Vines and other plants grew along the wall that the guardian had always leaned against—and even grew onto him. Yet he continued to sit... Until rust ate at his once shining metal.

Years passed. The guardian had seen over a generation of people walking by him by this point. The wall had begun to crumble, and the vines had grown over him, hiding him from the ever-changing world. Only his eyes remained uncovered. Ever watchful, shining with light. He sat through rain and snow, cold and heat, sun and clouds, wind and storm...

Until one day, after many, many, years of watching. The guardian shuddered under his cover of vegetation, and with a rusty whir of machinery, the light left his eyes.

His watch was over.