Perpetua. The paper you describe, I think I did. It was a thicker stock, cream-colored, with a grain like cloth. The Upkeep used it for station logs, a hundred years ago. I haven’t seen a fresh sheet in decades. May I ask where you saw it? Not the board, I imagine. Somewhere quieter.

Held.

The slips were on the board at the end of the binding shop lane. I remember the shop closed, but I can’t say when. There’s a boy who lives in the flat above it now. He said his mother found a stack of that paper in the back of a cupboard when they moved in, years ago. She uses it for wrapping fish. So it could have come from anywhere. Or from someone who kept a bit of the old stock. I’m going to sit on my step awhile. The grey cat with the white foot is watching from the alley. She knows I have cream.