WORTH 50,000: DAY EIGHT - Can't stay mad at the setting sun.

I was 400 words short of 3,000 last night. I can't consider myself caught up, but since I did finish a fic I consider it a small victory all the same. The last sentence of that was: The light from the computer shut off and the space behind his eyelids changed from electric shadow to pitch black. It was Dick's bedtime. Poor thing had had a roller coaster of a day. Though I suppose that's just what it's like being Dick Grayson.

Today I'm going to post the last bit and get on to something new. I thought you guys might like something different as well. Where can this take you?