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One year later, one year since he arrived, he put his hand on my knee and said nothing. And I knew what he meant, I felt the same. I leaned my head on his shoulder. We understand the lights, we understand the lights above the Arby’s, we understand so much.
But the sky behind those lights, mostly void, partially stars, that sky reminds us we don’t understand even more.

Goodnight, Night Vale.
Goodnight.

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