I swing a box off the pile and open it. Were all these printed off the internet? Is this a court transcript?... What's this?
It was a photograph. Looks like Eric and his girlfriend. Only it's torn in half... Oh. None of my business. None of my business. Wrong box.
I pick another box to look through. Then another. Then another. And soon it becomes automatic.
Fwish, fwash. Swish, swash. It occurs to me that I'd rather be weeding. Not that I'm wildly crazy about weeding, but still. Then the words “severe weather” catch my eye.
“Yes! Here! Ericericeric!” I hop from foot to foot, excited that I can stop looking through boxes of papers.
“Let me see.” Eric takes the paper and scans it.
It's then that I notice that there are more weather reports in the box. But apparently it doesn't matter because Eric is dancing what may or may not be a jig.
“This is it! This is it!” he almost sings, and starts dancing around in a circle waving the paper in the air. He doesn't look entirely sane... But who am I to talk? If I'd come into The Great Paper Quest after days of research, I might be acting the same way right now.
“I have to incorporate this into my portfolio,” Eric says, staring at the paper. “Then I can explain everything.” He wanders into his study, laughing his head off.
Everything. Yeah. I dare him to explain everything. Except I wouldn't actually dare him. He would probably try.
I wonder what time it is. I'm gonna go check out the fridge.
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