*Gentle hands brush the dust off the cover of a diary.* "Huh... an old book?" The witch turns the diary in her hands. "Beautiful!" She stares at the binding, running her finger down the spine.... and carefully opens it. "Blank?... how strange..."
Tom could feel himself coming to life again, as if he had been asleep forever and yet no time at all. Would he finally have waited long enough, would be ensnare the unsuspecting soul who held him so gently? Or would he be forced to wait, as he had done a millions times before, for he next set of hands to pick him up.





