When even that failed to meet the ever-increasing demand for his services,
he did something he should never have done: he broadcast a story destined for Momo's ears alone.
It was lapped up as greedily, and forgotten as speedily, as all the rest, and the public clamoured for more.
Guido was so bemused by the sheer pace of everything that, without stopping to think,
he reeled off all of Momo's treasured stories in quick succession.
When the last of them was told, he felt drained and empty and incapable of making up any more.
Terrified that success might desert him, he started to tell his stories all over again,
making only minor changes and using different names for his characters.
Extraordinarily enough, nobody seemed to notice - at all events, it didn't affect his popularity.
Guido clung to this thought like a drowning man clutching at a straw.
He was rich and famous now, he told himself, and wasn't that what he'd always dreamed of?
Sometimes, though, while lying awake at night between silk sheets, he yearned for his old way of life -
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