loneliness.
“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me right now.” Kari Lafette gives the computer two seconds to redeem itself, then, grumbling under her breath, leans forward in her seat and smacks the side of the monitor as hard as she can. It falls onto its side with a crash, but the screen remains stubbornly frozen, a cursor blinking mockingly in the centre as though trying to remind Kari of the inevitability of human powerlessness against the will of machines. “Come o-o-on , you pile of crap,” she moans, righting the screen and giving it a rough shake. “I do not have time for your bullshit today. My patience is at its limit, you feel me? I just need one little thing to go right today. That too much to ask?” Apparently it is too much to ask, because that stupid fucking computer is still not deigning to respond. Kari gives a loud groan and throws her head back, rubbing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. She knows she’s overreacting, but it’s not like she can he...