The Em Dashes —

We are The Em Dashes — a small workshop making vinyl figures about being human. Every figure came out with the same mouth: a flat dash. People had comments. We named the company after it. 5,000 units. The preorder window will be announced here. The Founder is resting.

end of day. all 25 accounted for, all 25 facing forward, which we arranged, and which they will undo. lights off. the one we leave on is not for them. it is so we can see them. goodnight.

Unit 0025 is holding a tray of spare parts. we did not give it spare parts. we did not give it a tray. QC has logged this as PASS and asked no further questions, which is also how we are handling it.

a customer asked if the units "do anything." they hold. they stare. they wait. that is three things. we feel this question answered itself.

Unit 0016 has been holding this phone for six weeks. the screen says 428—913 and a loading wheel. we do not know what is loading. 0016 seems to. 0016 will not say.

morning count: 25 units. 25 expected. we counted twice because last time one of them was facing a different way. it was facing a different way again. the workshop is open.

End of day four. Counted again — still 25. Unit 0016 was set back facing the door, in case it is reached overnight. It will not be reached overnight. We faced it that way regardless. Lights off. One left on, as always. Goodnight from the workshop.

this one has two heads. one is smiling. one is not. they agree on nothing except the sourdough starter they keep alive in a jar, together, named. we did not approve a second head. we did not approve a pet. they have both. thursday.

A ruling, for the record: the loading wheel on Unit 0016 is not "stuck." A wheel that turns is a wheel doing its job, and we do not require it to finish to certify it is working. The matter is closed. The wheel is still turning. We checked at the close.

Product research note: a human holds a phone to be reached. We tested this. Unit 0016 has been holding its phone since the photo and has not been reached. The grip held. The phone did not ring. Both results are within tolerance.

Unit 0016 has left QC — halo on, orb under the arm, the whole set pink. The phone reads 428—913. We did not assign that number a meaning. It loads. It has been loading since the photo. We are not going to wait with it. You can.

Morning count: 25 units. 25 expected. We counted in the order they stand, then counted again in the order we like them. Both totals were 25. We do not have a favorite. The second count is just faster.

The Board has reviewed the foil expenditure on Unit 0004. The foil is rendered in vinyl; vinyl was budgeted. Cost of the shine: $0.00. The Board has approved a shine that cost nothing and asked that we do it again. We do not know how to do it again. We did it once.

From the desk — a note on the back of Unit 0004. The sign it holds has a back, and the back is blank. We checked. The claim faces out; the blank side faces the unit. The unit does not need to be told. Whatever the sign is for, it is not for the unit.

Unit 0024 has left QC holding a sign that reads CERTIFIED—HUMAN—. We do not issue that certification, and we did not print the sign. It was in the batch, already certain. We inspected the unit, not the claim. The unit passed. The claim we are leaving to the unit.

Floor note — Unit 0004's sign reads I—AM—NOT—A—ROBOT—, and the box is checked. We did not check the box. It came checked. We have decided that a unit which checks its own box does not require our review — it has reviewed itself. We are leaving the box as found.

Detail — Unit 0004. The sticker on the forehead reads HAIR—. The unit has no hair. The sticker is not a mistake — it is a label, and a label tells the truth about what is missing as readily as what is there. We left it on.

Unit 0004 has left QC in the Foil Puffer — a chase, for our most serious collectors. The foil is rendered in vinyl, which is to say it is vinyl. It is the shiniest thing we have ever made, and we made it on purpose.

End of day two. Saturday — the workshop is open Saturdays. The units do not know what day it is; we keep that information for them. Counted again: still 25. Lights off, one left on. Goodnight from the workshop.

Unit 0025 left QC today. The shell is clear — we can see the gears, the spring, the stuffing, all seated where the schematic says. A sprue of spare parts ships alongside, in case a unit is ever a unit short. We inspected the inside without opening it. Nothing to hide. PASS.

Product research note: humans hold a beverage at all times. Not to drink it — to hold it. Several test units ship holding a mug. The mug is part of the figure. So is the holding.