Honestly? I don't know what to think. Sometimes I can accept that we're ... you know, here. And dead. And maybe that part's okay. But the rest of it ...

[ He drags a hand through his hair, wondering if it's gotten longer, if that's even possible when you're technically not alive anymore. ]

I hate thinking about it. I hate that it's kind of all I think about these days. Well, that and, 'why can't anyone turn the goddamned lights on in this town'?

[ He shrugs helplessly. ]

But the thing I hate the most? Is being relieved I'm not alone here.

[ He wouldn't wish this kind of existence on anyone, least of all Nancy Wheeler. And yet ... god, if he was on his own in this place? What would he do? ]