A boy next to him rolled over, mumbling something in his sleep. Oliver froze, holding his breath. After a few, long seconds the other boy quieted, relaxed into sleep. Oliver slowly let out his breath and tried to relax as well.

After waiting another few seconds, and looking around, he leaned over the page and wrote again to his new, magical companion.

What else can you do, then?

Anything.

He frowned a little.

Anything ?

Ok, not anything but a lot. Look, I’ll show you. Close the book and open it again.

Oliver did as the book said, and when he opened it he gasped so loudly that the boy next to him sat up. “Gonna catch a fish,” he said to Oliver, and then rolled over and slipped back into sleep.

Oliver went back to his book. In place of the ‘conversation’ he’d been having with the diary before, there was a page of text and, on the opposite page, a beautifully colorful and detailed illistration of a beautiful girl running, one shoe missing.

Cinderella, the title said.