“Because his head was slightly uptilted when he looked at the numbers on the board, Brice Habersham’s glasses caught the dancing candlelight, which threw a tiny glare, like sunspots. It was a mild inconvenience, not an actual handicap. After all, he could often hit what he wanted even with his eyes closed. But for the time being he occupied himself with measuring the candlelight’s effect, throwing his three darts and plucking them out and throwing them again, calculating the subtle shifting of t...he light across the bull’s-eye and the flickering glint off the silver wires. He imagined, as always, the dartboard as a vortex, his release point as the vortex’s widest circle, the space between the release point and the board a sort of funnel, his chosen target the concentric point where the narrowing circles met, where the dart would be sucked in. It was interesting that the optical tricks played by the light off his glasses altered his throwing motion just slightly, just the tiniest bit, a tightening in his fingers and his wrist and his forearm, as if the well-trained mechanism didn’t want to operate with the target not clearly defined.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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