There are no crowds cheering, no winners puffing out their chests in the winner's circle, no judges peering critically as I swoop into Athens holding my bronze statue. Tired, hungry and not a little discouraged, I berate my smart sandals for their arrant stupidity.

"You guys think you're so smart. It's all your fault that we arrived too late to claim the prize," I pout. "If you'd done more flying and less talking, we might have had a chance."

"Don't worry," says the right sandal. "It's only a virtual race, an illusion. So are we...and you."

"That's right," says the second sandal cheerily. "It's only a game. Besides, you'll feel much better once you've soaked in a bath and eaten something."

"I certainly see the wisdom of your last point," I sigh. "Allright, let's go get cleaned up and head for the Macedonian Bar & Grill. There's nothing like good company and a good cup of retsina to heal our woes."