The keyboard typed on its own now, faster: “User Lena M. has decided to keep the software. User Lena M. is grateful. User Lena M. is no longer necessary for the creative process. Would you like to disable your typing fingers? [YES] [YES]”
She didn’t remember downloading it. But desperation is a powerful drug. She unzipped it. On-Screen.Keyboard.Pro-9.2.0.0.zip
And a sticky note from the future: “You’re welcome. – On-Screen.Keyboard.Pro-9.2.0.1 (Coming soon)” The keyboard typed on its own now, faster: “User Lena M
A notification pinged from her downloads folder. New file: On-Screen.Keyboard.Pro-9.2.0.0.zip
She opened the lid one last time. The keyboard smiled—not literally, but the keys arranged themselves into a :) before dissolving.