So I’m editing my upcoming book Exsilium this morning as my dad continues to hover near death and the sky is falling on every single one of us. I had to take my mind off of things.

So anyway, I come across this passage, written in August of last year:

The people clamoring for his attention thought these things were permanent. They took them for granted. The inhabitants of Earth in 2019 had, of course, thought the very same thing about everything they’d established up to that point.

Unbeknownst to them, a sleeping giant lay in their midst, and it didn’t care about maintaining the status quo. It didn’t care about their cities or their technology or their storied history of perseverance and triumph. It didn’t care about anything but its own survival…

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