Ultimately, it was easier to change the subject than think the unthinkable. - Charles Stross

I stare longingly at the bare chunk of space on the desktop. There may be a keyboard stitched into the lining of my cummerbund, but without a machine to plug it into it’s about as much use as a chocolate hacksaw.

You win some, you lose some. And when you lose, you have to pull yourself together and go back for more. Otherwise, the other side wins by default.

He stabs at the mouse mat with one finger and I wince. But instead of fat purple sparks and a hideous soul-sucking manifestation, it simply wakes up his Windows box. (Not that there’s much difference.)