Excerpt from the novel Neuromancer by William Gibson

     Cyberspace, as the deck presented it, had no particular relationship with the deck’s physical whereabouts. When Case jacked in, he opened his eyes to the familiar configuration of the Eastern Seaboard Fission Authority’s Aztec pyramid of data.
     “How you doing, Dixie?”
     “I’m dead, Case. Got enough time in on this Hosaka to figure that one.”
     “How’s it feel?”
     “It doesn’t.”
     “Bother you?”
     “What bothers me is, nothin’ does.”
     “How’s that?”
     “Had me this buddy in the Russian camp, Siberia, his thumb was frostbit. Medics came by and they cut it off. Month later he’s tossin’ all night. Elroy, I said, what’s eatin’ you? Goddam thumb’s itchin’, he says. So I told him, scratch it. McCoy, he says, it’s the other goddam thumb.” When the construct laughed, it came through as something else, not laughter, but a stab of cold down Case’s spine. “Do me a favor, boy.”
     “What’s that, Dix?”
     “This scam of yours, when it’s over, you erase this goddam thing.”