The diary looks harmless, but I can feel strange vibrations coming fro it. A sort of humming sound makes me dizzy when I focus too hard. I have not opened it yet. I wonder what is written inside. God knows what am I waiting for, but I am just waiting.
I am procrastinating...
My sigh and exclamation attract the moth. It soars in the air weightlessly and hovers over the diary. I need to name it. Calling the thing a Moth is not being very helpful. It sits on my shoulder as usual and flutters its wings, until I start giggling.
"You're tickling me," I squeal. "Tell me, what should I call you? I am not going to keep calling you 'it'. Tell me, what shall I call you?"
It flutters its wings again and then settles on my shoulder. It flashes a blue glow, more intense than any other time I have seen it. That reminds me of something I read when I was a child.
