"A small desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead as we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale."
"Dana, is he still going at it?" The woman jumped in surprise before she recognized Nurse Tanner, carrying his customary leather briefcase.
"You mean the recordings? Yes, he's still making them." She informed him, smiling fondly. Tanner merely frowned.
"I don't know why you let him carry on these delusions. We are attempting to help these people, not encourage them." Dana huffed, rolling her eyes and waving him off.
"There's no harm in it. Besides, it makes him happy." She glanced through the small window on the steel door to see the man the two nurses had been talking about. Cecil Palmer was seated at his desk, speaking into a microphone he had received perhaps a month before. As he addressed his 'listeners', Tanner sighed.
"Happy or not, these radio-show delusions have to stop. He's gotten worse since you gave him that microphone, Dana, he really has."
"Oh, please. You're just upset because he's never mentioned you on his 'show'. Besides, the Doc agrees that studying those recordings may help us learn more about Palmer's condition. Now, don't you have to get Pamela that medication?" Tanner opened his mouth to argue some more, but patients came first, so he just harrumphed and left. Dana bit back a giggle, then glanced through the glass again. Cecil was still 'reporting' of traffic in the Night Vale city, blissfully unaware that it did not exist, and that to the Doctors at Night Vale Mental hospital, he was known as patient 204.