-- How did it go? -- Wait. Where am I? -- You're in the floorboards, under the bed. -- ... Under the bed? -- Take a moment. -- ... Oh. It happened. -- Yes. -- I'm dead. -- 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 then 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. -- It must be very limiting, I think. -- How wonderful. I am Dimensionless. -- Exactly. You're picking this up very quickly. -- I always felt 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. -- Here. 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. -- Was the food any good? -- I kept a clean station. Spotless. 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 better. The roof is nice. 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? -- Sure, but when do I move on? -- Who would you like to see? -- My mother, I suppose. -- There’s plenty to see here though. The whole planet. All these stars. -- I'm not interested in all that. 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. 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? -- 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. It’s complicated. -- I don’t understand. -- 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 speak of dust. -- What then? -- The Universe will end, eventually. -- And what about me? -- You will end with it. Along with all the others who have to stay. -- Wait, I can hardly feel you any more. 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.