Friday, October 15, 2004

88. Batman

Nights lately have been quiet, but the silence is deceptive. The streets are alive with danger and dark possibility. I continue to hear sporadic reports of the unnamed newcomer, all of them sketchy. His suit seems to resemble mine, sans cape. Indeed, he is often mistaken for me, which may well be his intent.

I continue my nightly patrols, often with Robin's help now. In the last two weeks we have apprehended more than a dozen criminals, small-timers all. R has become an invaluable asset to me, though at the same time I must be ever mindful of his safety. I can do nothing to put his life in jeopardy.

Meanwhile, Nygma is out there. Somewhere. I find myself thinking about him day and night, replaying our earlier encounters over and over in my mind. As much as I dread what he has become, I find myself ... attracted ever more to him.

In times like these, there is only one thing to do: throw myself into my work. Exercise vigorously. Train my mind and body.

And hope for the best.