Gray Brown

“This is also a Mayberry,” she explained later in her House on the Hill. “We do not prejudice against black and white or coloreds. All are welcome here for resurrection.”

“What about Soap?” He knew the other Paper, the sim just named Paper itself, was accompanied by another sim of that name. “How do you, I don’t know, clean all the grime and dirt off from the grave… itself.”

“Child. You’re speaking nonsense.” She noted the holes in his head again. Marbles are loose somewhere in the world, perhaps this world. “Did you see Chuckey at the shack? You know, the swamp takes up basically half this Paper [delete name] sim. It’s a wet and dry war. Chuckey is my opposite. He (she pauses)… is (smaller pause) insaaaane.

Kolya thought back to the eyes that uttered “Arkansawwww”. *Not* “Jerrrry”. He didn’t think.

“What, child, did you see there? *Hear* there?” She decided to just play the cards she was dealt. “Did you seeeee — *this*?”

—-

“He took it over to Eyela in the Asylum to show her; plopped it down right on top of her unfinished jigsaw puzzle. It will never be finished. “What’s *this*?” she exclaimed while also tittering a bit. “Looks a little… like *me*.”

The book started screaming, low at first, then LOUD. She covered her ears and bent her single big eye down toward the floor, trying not to look any more as well.

Then it hissed the one word no one in this alternate Paper sim wanted to hear.

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