Platinum Paper

Oh my god.

I saw a note stating in inky black calligraphy that I 'Must report to the Office on Arrival'. It contrasted well with the platinum backing paper. Irealised I needed to move after standing there gormless for two whole minutes. So I guess I did. My small shoes clacked on the clean marble stairs, almost worring me that I may leave a slime trail. On a golden plaque to the right of me was engraved 'Reception'. I'm not sure about you but where I come from that means office. I knocked politely and was called in a suprisingly young sounding voice.

"Grace me with your presence." Came the honey smooth voice.

A giggle followed and I wondered what the hell was going on in there and whether I really wanted to. I turned the brass door knob wincing at the freezing surface. Walking in I saw the most gobsmacking sight. The small red round room was covered with golden spines of huge books placed all round the perimetre. Yet it was not that. The carpet mismatched in a weird way. An indian rug lag covering most of the tiny area. But it wasn't that that shocked me so horrificly. The desk was pine wood, not suiting the authentic room. But it was actually who was sat at the desk that took me back.

Or should I say on the desk...

"Erm... Have I come to the right office?!"

The End

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