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April 21, 2020
It moves slyly, capturing itself invisibly, slithering from host to host, establishing the silent comm, growing viable threads, stitching a web around the world. Winds are rising. Horizon is dimming. Focus is on the patch of earth you're on. Beneath your feet, inside your body, deep within your brain it lives; it moves elegantly without fuss. One might even be impressed by its elegance. Few creations have grown to such heights in such short a time. All the world's the stage for the creation's actors. Words are becoming fewer, speeches even less. The quiet is looming. Masks are becoming ash.