"They said I shouldn't have sharp things," says Tim, dubiously, but he's shifting forward one step, slow and careful and tentative. It's not a confirmation. Not yet. But he is, inarguably, tempted.

"They...they said it's dangerous. Broken glass can cut you. You can get it all buried in your hands and knees and stuff."

Not that he would know the specifics, of how agonizing that can get. He's just been cautioned against it a dozen times. Which is pretty stupid, as far as he's concerned; he's not about to jump out of any windows, is he?

Of course not.