A chill ran down Zeke’s spine. He glanced behind him. No-one there. But still the feeling persisted…no! It couldn’t be…could it? Surely they couldn’t have gone that far?

Zeke had tried to live what passes for a blameless life these days. Sure, there was the odd sarcastic comment, and sometimes he wasn’t as pleasant as he’d like, but for the most part he left people to their own devices, and trusted them to do the same for him.

So what could have produced this feeling? Something was, undoubtedly, terribly wrong. He spun round, once more, and scrutinised the area behind him. The street remained obstinately empty, giving no clue to the source of his discomfort.

It is clearly ridiculous to suggest that a realisation could make a sound. It’s a mere mental state, after all. Even so, as it finally came to Zeke why he was feeling like this, it was as if a gigantic leaden weight had clanged onto a steel slab.

There was no longer any doubt. Someone had written something bad about him… on the Internet.