The photograph: four old-fashioned light switches arranged in a square, each with a label bearing a woman’s name.
The story: a monologue by a narrator whose identity is ambiguous, perhaps a female robot lamenting the loss of her sisters. Details of ‘real’ life are heightened through their transformation into Hershman’s science-fiction idiom, and the ending is especially poignant.
This is one of a series of posts on the anthology Still. Click here to read the rest.