-- How did it go?
-- Wait. Where am I?
-- You're in the floorboards, under the gurney.
-- ... The floor?
-- Take a moment.
-- ... Oh. It happened.
-- Yes.
-- At last.
-- Indeed. How did it go?
-- I suppose it wasn't too bad. I had some trouble breathing.
-- Yes. That's usual.
-- Then, I felt giddy. And the lifting of an enormous weight, one I hadn't even noticed I was carrying.
-- And then?
-- After a few moments, the whole not-breathing-issue became less of ... an issue, I suppose. And then, poof, here I am. With you. In the floorboards, for some reason.
-- Well done.
-- Thank you. There was some... loosening, right at the end.
-- Ah, that's extremely common. Not to worry.
-- Oh dear. Was it messy? I hate mess. It drives me absolutely crazy.
-- Messy? Not by your standards, no. Not in the slightest. Your medical team had it... covered, so to speak. I've seen a lot worse.
-- Oh good. So, how am I in the floorboards?
-- Well, you no longer have a body. You can forget all of that 'location' business.
-- When you think about it, that was all very odd.
-- I have heard that it is very limiting.
-- How wonderful. I am Dimensionless.
-- Exactly. Good. You're picking this up very quickly.
-- I always felt so constrained.
-- Yes, didn’t you?
-- It gave me a terrible temper.
-- I know.
-- Do I have to stay here?
-- In the floorboards? Not at all.
-- I don't suppose we could leave? I don’t like this room. Too much glass. That window, full of faces.
-- Of course. Where would you like to go?
-- Let’s have a look around the place a bit. This has been my home for so long.
-- You bet.
-- Ah, better. I always liked the kitchen. Hardly ever had any trouble here. I just got on with things.
-- Yes. But there was that one time?
-- That guy? He had it coming. I kept a clean station. Spotless.
-- Was the food any good?
-- How come we are speaking to each other?
-- We’re not. Not really. This is Thoughtspace. This is where we exist. We are just sharing tendrils of spirit. For now.
-- Neat. And.. and it’s clean?
-- Clean?
-- There’s no way for you, excuse me, to infect me in any way? Please don't be offended.
-- Not at all. No risk of that at all. Zero.
-- I hate infection.
-- I know.
-- Now. This is even nicer. The roof. You can see the sunset. I liked to watch the traffic on the interstate. Like watching a river of light.
-- Lovely.
-- How long do I stay here?
-- Isn’t there more you’d like to see?
-- Not really. When do I move on? What’s next? I always knew there was more.
-- There’s plenty to see here though. The whole planet. All these stars.
-- I'm not interested in all that.
-- What about your family?
-- What’s your story?
-- My story? You mean, how long have I been here?
-- Yeah.
-- I’m as old as Time. Time cannot exist without me.
-- Really.
-- Hmmm.
-- Can you be killed?
-- I was wondering when you’d ask me that.
-- Well?
-- No. I cannot die in any way. Time is a circle for me. It travels through me and I am always at the centre.
-- Where are you going?
-- Going? I am going nowhere. Weren’t you listening?
-- Wait! Come back.
-- But I’m not moving. It’s you. You’re the one moving.
-- Wait! I’m not moving! I’m still on the roof of the Penitentiary!
-- That’s right. You have to stay.
-- What??!
-- It’s complicated.
-- I don’t understand.
-- The only way I can explain it is like this:Because what comes next is outside Time, you have to move to stay in one place. Sorry.
-- Help me!
-- Actually, I’m not really sorry.
-- But I don’t wanna stay here.
-- That’s too bad.
-- What can I do?
-- Travel to all the places. All the stars. All the galaxies. For as long as you like. Every pebble on every beach. Every speck of dust.
-- What then?
-- Time will end. Eventually.
-- And what about me?
-- You will end with it. Along with all the others who have to stay.
-- Please stay with me a little longer.
-- You're out of Time.
-- This is unfair!
-- You deserve this.
-- But why?
-- Because of all the children you murdered. Don’t you remember?
-- Oh. Oh, yeah.
