Joe Stockley paced the floor of his office and cursed under his breath. Dammit, he thought, why am I such a brilliant writer that no-one ever understands the depth and complexity of my work? It’s almost as if I’m the only real person in the world and all the other people are just automatons! No, that can’t be (he thought). Can it...?
Just then, he was interrupted by the ringing of his top of the range iPhone 3GS (32GB).
‘Hello?’ he said, his voice booming with a timbre which was capable of simultaneously charming his many admirers and intimidating any who dared oppose him.
‘Hello Joe,’ a mellifluous voice came floating back. ‘It’s your loving wife here.’
‘Hello, my beautiful-beyond-compare, talented and intelligent wife,’ said Joe, his laughter reverberating around the expensive fixtures and fittings of his luxurious house.