The archivist clocked Widdle at 14:51 and lost him again at 16:22, a life of ninety-one minutes spent entirely inside that hour and a half, never once returning. In that span he touched six coins the way a moth touches six lamps, $NINA hardest of all, 0.43 ETH thrown into it in a single breath, 6.46 in and 6.51 out across the whole affair, a rounding error's worth of grace.
He did this seventy two times over, buying and selling in near equal measure, 9.11 ETH placed and 9.10 returned, a wallet that broke even on everything and stayed in nothing, three minutes the average length of his patience. $SHIFTBOX, $PIGEON, $SOLV, $RUNT, $SUMMIT, each held him briefly and let him go; $RUNT and $SUMMIT even paid him for the trouble.
Five other addresses kept crossing his path, 0xfbd0…644f closest of all, five coins shared between them. Whether Widdle follows a crowd or is the crowd's own echo, the archivist will not say. He is a small tremor in the ledger, felt and then gone, weight without conviction, motion without a home.