"Stop!" Marco yelled, swatting at the air. His hand passed through the basset hound’s ribs. But the basset hound’s teeth, digital as they were, bit clean through the plastic cable. The lights in his room dimmed.
Marco laughed. A virus scare. He’d seen a thousand of them. "Descargar perros callejeros? What’s next, a pop-up for stray cats?" He clicked out of pure, sleep-deprived stupidity. descargar perros callejeros
Marco’s desk chair rolled back an inch as a pixelated snout pressed against the inside of his monitor, fogging the glass with digital breath. Then, the first one escaped. "Stop!" Marco yelled
Woof.