[You sit in a quiet hospital room, your left arm still hugged by the weight of a handcuff, and your right by the books you are keeping under your arm. You've tried to distract yourself in every which way. Reading, writing, watching terrible television, and especially playing video games] [you just finished a really nice one, about blinking your life away, going through various little moments of your life, and as you look out the window, curtains opened to show the twin moons of alternia shining down on you, you quietly wonder what you'll see when you die] [nine sweeps of study, cloistered away from society] [thousands of sweeps of servitude, letting ghosts sit in your body] [and in between that, three perigrees, where you have for perhaps the first time in your life been truly, unequivocally happy] [even now as you sit here away from it all, you wish you could stretch this moment into eternity]