This morning, things were all well in the land known as Aiming-for-Tranquility Computer Village.  (The locals know it us as AFT Computer town.)  The day was passing as it normally does with this writer tap-tapping away at her computer keys and sip-sipping her coffee.  Then it came, as plagues often do, starting as a sniffle or a cough – playing with me – like a mist foreshadowing the wave of death that was to follow.  The first sign was the devilphone.     All bow before the devilphone!!  It must be the devilphone, for what other type of monster would write on its own mirror backwards from left to write?  Only the kin of Beelzebub would behave so.  Clearly – on this backlit led…