Mr. Palomar wrote:


The image that comes to mind when reading this is of SB furiously typing away at the keyboard, clicking and sliding the mouse with spasmodic jerks, his shoulders twitch and he might be mumbling something barely perceptible even in the silence of the sterile apartment. His face is a giant grin. The fervor clouds his eyes like slime. Across the darkness of the room, V stares at him from a distance, frozen in indecision, holding the phone in one hand with the other paused with an outstretched finger poised to dial – the computer isn’t even on.