How was your day? it asked. The words simply appeared this time, floating up from under the page instead of waiting for Oliver to close and open the book. Oddly, this didn’t surprise the boy. The diary could do anything. It was magic.
Oliver sighed, wondering what exactly to write.
Horrible his shaky handwriting informed the flawless writing of the diary.
They did testing on some foam stuff that burns.
Now the diary seemed to hesitate, the words coming slowly.
I am sorry. Perhaps a story would make things better?
Oliver wanted to pen an eager yes, and brought his pen down to do so before he yawned and wrote a messy line across the page rather than a ‘y’.
Yes, it would. But I need to sleep.
I understand the diary replied, quicker this time.
You did not sleep very much last night. Tonight you must.I hope tomorrow will be better. You will make it through this.
He nearly asked what that meant, but the next words came and he needed to sleep.
Sleep well, Oliver.