Document B Irma “Hold still, Paper. I’m almost done.” Irma held the sheet of paper down. As she added an orange streak to the sky, a purple crayon jumped out of the box and covered the picture with swirling lines. “Stop it, Purple! You’re ruining my drawing!” She grabbed the crayon and stuffed it back in the box. “Now, don’t let anything out unless I tell you to,” she told the box. She looked at the picture and sighed. “Oh well. 1 can make another one tomorrow,” she said. “You can go now, Paper.” The sheet of paper scrambled off the desk, out of the room, and down the hall. “Okay, Radio. That’s enough music.” A button marked play popped up. “Come on, Watch. Let’s go.” A watch crawled across the desk and wrapped itself around her wrist. Irma looked out the window at the courtyard below. “Purple Crayon is going crazy,” she said, stroking the watch, “and Tire’s been playing rough again.” Irma left the room and started down one of the many flights of stairs in the abandoned building. “Things just go crazy sometimes. That’s why all the people left. All they had to do was scold things once in a while, but they were too afraid.” She sighed. The watch gently squeezed her wrist as she headed down a hallway.