The art of lovemaking just £5.99, my inbox informed with a delicate chime. Spam I thought wearily of the intrusion, annoyance at the break of my quiet seclusion But as I tapped out a drumbeat replying to others, decided I’d chance it once I’d answered my mother. Son’s duty done it was time for a look, was it pills or a pump or perhaps just a book? The mouse glided over, selected its prey, a solitary word was simply displayed. ‘Connecting…’ was flashing in front of my eyes, is this some kind a virus; a Trojan disguised? Excitement was building as I thought of my wife, tonight she’d experience the time of her life Smiling I watched as the answers drew near, my scream pierced the silence as the blue screen appeared.