turned and said goodbye to his landlord, who in turn flickered back a brief Farewell before Seph closed the door. The wood...well, was it wood? The door snapped to place like a magnet, and a thin veil of light flickered over it, providing its security.

The light in the room was fairly bright, as usual; the stuff burned into Seph's eyes, and he groaned, and rubbed his hands over them. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept for an interval longer than would be considered a mere nap. He wanted to say days, but there was no real way to tell. Without nights he had completely lost track of time, and dazedly he walked to the center of the room, too exhausted to do much else but slowly collapse onto the dusty, yet lime-smelling floorboards. He lied down on his back and regarded the ceiling, which was covered in one big patch of wires, a rose-colored, brightly glowing warp and weft. The lights were never off.

He had always slept in as utter a darkness as he could reasonably obtain. Now it was impossible.

He considered what he had done, and what he was doing with his life, and then groaned, loudly, and turned over, pressing his forehead to the floor and wrapping his arms around, sealing his face from the light.

He wasn't sure when he woke up, but it felt like it had been days.

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