Dream a Little Dream by Piers Anthony

the clothes he was wearing. She'd have to take him by one of the souvenir shops on the boardwalk and buy him something better to wear. It would force her to use the credit card, but that was okay. “First, I’d like to get you some clothes. People here don’t dress that way.”
    Mich looked down at himself. His clothes were pretty ragged as it was. He could use some new ones. “Very well.”
    One problem remained. “But what’ll I do with Esprit? They don’t allow horses in my hotel.”
    “He can’t talk to you,” Mich said, “but he can understand you. Maybe you can tell him to stay here on the beach, if you think it’s safe enough and if he stays out of sight.”
    Nola turned to her black friend. Before she could say a word, he tossed his head, turned tail and galloped off down the beach. He headed away from the hotels and streets.
    “He read my thoughts!” Nola said, believing it just a little.
    Mich took Nola’s bag and chair from her hands and carried themfor her. She led him for a whole mile down the beach before they were in sight of the boardwalk.
    Mich was constantly stared at. Teenagers pointed and adults laughed. Nola was glad to see that it didn’t affect him. He held his head high and ignored them. It was possible that he didn’t even realize that he was the object of their ridicule.
    They entered one of the stores. Nola found a pair of black swim trunks and a surfer T-shirt. “These look like your size,” she said.
    Mich stared at them. “Are you sure those are proper?”
    “For the beach? Of course, but I wouldn’t wear them in the city. Go ahead and try them on.”
    She directed him into a little stall with mirrors all over its walls. It was interesting, being able to see his backside, even the back of his head. He would have to suggest such a mirror chamber to his father. He closed the door and removed his torn clothing and dressed in the strange new clothes. He stepped out of the stall and faced Nola.
    “Well,” she said. “You look brighter! With that gorgeous black hair and five o’clock shadow, you look exactly like a surfer! All except for that sword. Well, that can’t be helped.”
    Nola paid for the clothes with John’s credit card, and they walked down the boardwalk to her hotel. It was quite small, compared with most of the others, but the room was nice, with two double beds and cable TV.
    Nola made the mistake of turning on the TV. Mich was instantly hooked. “A magic mirror of a strange and marvelous new kind! But how does it answer questions?”
    “You don’t question it,” she said wryly. “You just sit like a vegetable and watch it until your mind rots.”
    Mich covered his eyes. “Evil magic! I didn’t know.”
    “Humor,” she said quickly. “It won’t hurt you immediately. That takes days or weeks.”

    Relieved, he watched for over an hour. Every ten seconds, he'd say, “ Wow, look at this!” or “What is that?” When he was silent for a while, she got suspicious. Sure enough, it was a feature showing buxom young women in scant costumes. She had better do something about that.
    He was horrified when she flipped to the news. She had to explain about guns, crime, war and poverty. He was morbidly fascinated by the images and concepts.
    “Why is your world so destructive of itself? How can a man shoot another man and not care? How can a mother leave a newborn child in a garbage can? Why do people not share their food when they see someone who’s starving? Why does your world need so many weapons that they could blow the whole thing up? Who would win a war like that?” he asked, his eyes glazing over as he stared at the television.
    Nola just shook her head. “No one. I wish I knew why all these things happened. If you asked those who committed the atrocities, they would have a reason, but I don’t think you’d understand it. I don’t understand it, and I’m pretty low on the scale of human decency.”
    “But you’re a Creator!” he