Summer finally came to our shores and for a few brief weeks that dazzling orb near blinded my eyes and scorched my skin.
I had to crawl, friends, crawl on my belly deep beneath the rocks I call home and wait the summer out.
Now, as the crepuscular rays thin like a police searchlight, only now can I rise from my cocoon and stretch my lace wings to the autumn winds.
I am changed, I am new, I am a grumbler supreme.
Look for me wherever a voice drills your earlobe, wherever life crushes you in its vice and wherever a cynic is needed.
I'll be there, camouflaged on the wall, a mere dirty mark or fleck of dust. Listening intently, ready to smite the foes of reason until they lean their rough shoulders upon the wall and accidentally crush me.
That's sod's law, and yet we cynics are always surprised by it.
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