One Entry Per Person
by Tom Hadrava
This is what you find when you return:
34 leaflets and newsletters, plain or glossy paper with no moon runes, ink-chants or scarenocks. None of them folds itself into an origami puffin or a kangaroo when prodded with a finger.
1 post-it note on the door, about an electricity blackout. Signed "Mrs. Trelawney, your trusted neighbor," dated two days after you entered the Realm. Text already a little faded, in English. Only a touch of perfume, no cinnamon, cockatrice-feather, or wild-dryad smell.
1 rug, oval, orange-white. The colors stable, not moving around or floating five centimeters above the floor. There are no whispers from the fabric, even if you put your ear very close.
121 personal emails. None of them starts with "Greetings, shimmering friend."