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.LP
\&
.ce
.sp |4.25i
.PP
.ps 12
.I
A moth ate words.  That seemed to me a curious happening, when I heard
about that wonder, that the worm, a thief in the darkness, swallowed a
certain man's song, a glory\-fast speech and its strong foundation.
The stealing guest was not at all the wiser for that, for those words
which he swallowed.
.R
.PP
.ps 12
\(em Exeter Book Riddle 47

.PP
.ps 12
.CW ░
New York, 2020.
.PP
.ps 12
Tom tracked the moth's progress with uncharacteristic interest as the insect traced a
diagonal path across the inside of his visor.  Annoyingly, it was interfering with
his vision.  He batted his eyelashes, but the tiny moth stubbornly remained
affixed to he underside of the handsfree display.  There was nothing
left to say.  He was going to have to kill the damned thing.
.PP
.ps 12
Tom ripped the visor from his face and flung it hard across the room,
where presently it skidded to a dull stop.  Now fully blind, he
realized with a start that he could no longer see to kill \fIanything.\fR
His situation would appear to have degraded.  In fact, it had both
degraded and improved.  He no longer had to contend
with the moth fucking up his display.  On the other hand, he could
no longer see, at all.  The balance of the Force.
.PP
.ps 12
Tom pressed the button on his belt that called for his secretary.
.PP
.ps 12
Too much of his time lately had been spent in this fashion.  Grasping
at fantasies, wallowing in
confusion.  Tom longed for the smell of battle.  It had been...  too
long.  Years prior he had donated all his weapons to the children's mission.
It seemed like such a long time ago, now.
.PP
.ps 12
"That's because it was," Piro said, responding to Tom's unspoken
lament.
.PP
.ps 12
Tom ignored him.