My thumbs hover above the keyboard like a pair of nervous birds on a wire, as I contemplate the perfect reply to Sarah's 'what's for dinner?' The fluorescent glow of my screen seems to amplify every tiny tremble within me, making it hard to type out something marginally acceptable – anything beyond a perfunctory 'pizza' that is. My fingers itch to compose a witty retort, a witty, 140-character essay that would seal our online rapport forever.
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