He can't see his reflection, but he's often admired his silhouette when it falls across a wall - long, sharp lines cutting a swath through the night air.
Now all he can see is a bowling-pin tottering about with the grace and dignity of a domestic duck.
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Now all he can see is a bowling-pin tottering about with the grace and dignity of a domestic duck.
He says to his belly, "You're already grounded."