It's dark.
Definitely brighter.
Light at the end of the tunnel.
Dig, he raged on.
Deeper. Stealthily.
He peeked at the world outside to make sure nobody was watching.
He didn't catch my eye.
Went back to his recluse.
Finally, he hit treasure. Joy masked his eyes. He pulled it out in triumph. Almost cried in relief. He turned to peek again.
I was caught. And all that joy disappeared. His face turned red, his eyes tried to find a curtain to hide behind, but didn't find one. I blinked, smiled apologetically and looked away.
He shrugged and left his seat.
Even snot can't be picked in peace in these ages of the dark.

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