The fluorescent digits on the dial read 4:00. AM, PM, it doesn't matter, because I haven't seen the Sun for 9 months in a row. The only light reflecting on my vampiric complexion is that of the multiple screens, damned windows through which I can envy the progress of my colleagues like an odious voyeur. As I wake up, my eyelids and lips are sealed by a crust of dead skin, like a mummy whose eternal sleep has been interrupted. I sit up in my bed, drenched in perspiration - a sour sweat that could well be the distillation of the nightmares that haunted me during this brief, restless nap. Without delay, I switch on my iPad and pick up my pencil again, my hand tense with tendonitis approaching rigor mortis. I love making comics!