It’s late and Vincent is lying on the couch snoring.

I just finished up a long night trying to solve the problems of the world, with a little help from Steve, and now I’m going to go wander for a bit in the Underworld.

(Meaning, it’s time to write for a while — no matter how late it is, I have to do it. That’s my spoon, scraping against the wall of the prison. At least, that’s what the card said.)

Write, then.

And then goodnight.