The dark, cherry-stained pine of the door to Room Three has ornate filigree whittled into it, between precisely etched squares, regal and dignified. The room beyond it is not a breath of fresh air from the dense and filthy miasma of Matthew's. It's bedecked in worn fabrics and objects of antiquated curiosity since it became a tradition that when Evelyn found something she classified as 'sick,' she would bring it to Adam for his study. Where Matthew keeps his treasures under a silt of cigarette ash, Adam has ten times as many kept in ordered cases for display.



The man of Men, with his Cro-Magnon brow, is Adam. His appearance is softly brown, the clean lines of his Brooks Brothers' suits marrying business-like his expensive tastes with the studious attitude he assumes toward all things. He will remain the same genteel brown for all eternity, the color of his optimistic sciences, the wood casing around his prototype telephone, the radioactive dust that will settle in his strictly parted hair.

Having accumulated a collection that outgrew an office space, Adam now keeps his tallest and most imposing chestnut cabinet filled with dildos of various sizes and materials, from differing world cultures and historical origin, lit with a soft gold light. The top of the cabinet is crowned with a thorny Rat King, the mummified bodies dangling elegantly over the lit contents. Along the wall beside it is a series of hundreds of slides labeled in archaic handwriting, smashing samples of various tissues long coated with dust.

Tables are covered in antique and unwashed, nicotine-filmed beakers, and the floor is strewn with slips of yellow paper onto which the same elegant hand is slanted in neat rows. A silvery metal cast of an ant colony is hung from the ceiling and swaying on it are scraps of red ribbon disturbed by the small gap in the far window, the screen of which is caught with strange bugs of the swamp Adam plans to gift to Nicholas for consumption.

Room Three, with it's copious cabinets and crannies in which to stuff such things, is a where our letters often get squirreled away. Spending enough time in here, you could come to understand a great deal about our respective romances. Add to the volumes of tenderness by sending a love letter to a Gray Family member using one of our email addresses or the form below.

To text message any one of the Gray Family, download the Google Hangouts app (for desktop and/or mobile). For instructions on how to get in touch with us once you have, see our Technical Help section of the Gray House Guide & FAQ.