Little Black Book

There was a woman one night riding the subway in a rush to quickly get home before the curfew. To forget about the stress of time rapidly growing in her mind, she lets her imagination wander as she reads the tales of A Thousand and One Nights. As she prepares herself to get off the metro at her station, she suddenly notices a little black book sitting at her side. For unknown reasons, her eyes were riveted on it. As she gets closer to it, she sees that it was a Moleskine notebook -a brand new model she had never seen before- and that its vibrancy could not go unnoticed, as if an energy field was surrounding it.

Almost in a hypnotized manner, she reaches out for it and leaves the wagon as the doors close behind her.

“I see you’ve found my book.”

The startling voice came from her left and took her by surprise, as she was sure that the station was completely empty just a moment ago. She turns around and notices a woman standing in front of the closed doors. The train slowly disappears, leaving them both in complete silence, staring at each other. 

The mysterious woman who came out of nowhere continues:

“I don’t mind nor do I judge you, it is in fact a beautiful black book. Do you see how vibrant it is?” 

The woman was intrigued…  “How did I not notice her presence before?”, she asked herself.

“I’m a genie”, she answers, as if she had heard her mind speak. 

“A genie?”, the woman responds, unable to refrain from a mocking smile.

The strange woman was average height, dark blonde haired, dressed in a very clean but casual style - not exactly the picture we would have of a genie. “But do we even have an actual picture of what a modern genie should look like?” 

“You don’t believe me? Is this better?”

She spins around herself and magically transforms right before her eyes : her face now showed a beautiful and flamboyant makeup, similar to a Venetian mask, with different scales of blue and yellow, as if professional painters had just finished their work of art.

“Yes, madam! A real genie! And I know you need to be home as quickly as possible, so I will speak frankly without beating around the bush. I’ve noticed you were reading A Thousand and One Nights, and one shall not be surprised to hear how dearly I love these stories.”

The genie paused a moment, deeply invested in her thinking.

“Since you took my little black book without my consent”, she pursued, “I would be willing to forgive you if you write me a short story, for my own pleasure. Rest assured, I would not make you work without the promise of a reward. For every sentence you write, a generous amount of money will be wired directly into your bank account. If you accept, I would suggest you start immediately, as we’re only moments away from the curfew.”

The genie was casually smiling, but she seemed grounded and very serious about her offer. 

All of this was happening so fast, there was so much new and strange information being revealed. 

The woman thought out loud: 

“All of this sounds crazy, obviously. Can genies really exist?”

“Anything can exist.”

That was true. Just by taking a look on the bizarre state of the planet right now could convince anyone that indeed anything was possible. 

“Can magic be true?”

“Magic is real. Why don’t you look at your phone?”

Instantaneously, the woman feels her phone vibrating in her coat pocket, a soft pulse notifying her of a new message. In total disbelief, she pulls it out of her pocket and the screen reads : DEPOSIT COMPLETED. 

“This is just the beginning”, the genie says.

“So you’re telling me that with the time I have left before the curfew, if I write you a short story in this little black book, I will be receiving a money wire into my bank account for every sentence written? ”

“That’s correct”, the genie confirmed, “but it has to be a good story. I don’t like peanuts.”

The woman laughed. 

Granted, this is all a bit too surreal, she thought. The thing was she really did believe in magic and this challenge sounded like it could be fun! Although this woman was calling herself a genie, she did seem quite nice and very friendly… And she had just received an unexpected amount of money into her bank account… Like for real. 

The woman knew she was up to the task. And she wondered if the genie was even aware that she had just challenged a master storyteller… 

“I accept”, said the storyteller.

“Good!”, the genie exclaimed, joyfully clapping her hands once. 

A pen appears between the genie’s fingers and she hands it to the woman, who takes it without the shred of a doubt. 

The writer sits down on a bench, putting down the little black book on her lap. A quick look at her watch reminds her that she has very little time to get to work. Effortlessly, she starts writing: 

“There was a small town somewhere on Earth, perched on a sunny and fertile hill. The citizens of this town were proud people, very much aware of the beauty of their land. They were wise and goodhearted people, they advocated justice and equality for all and in all matters. Their government was sagacious because it represented who they truly were and it defended the values in which they believed. In this town, they lived in abundance and led a peaceful good life. 

One day, news from another town nearby travelled to their ears and what they learned concerned the entire planet : a spell was apparently cast on every nation.

This spell did not affect the mass population, it would rather charm the leaders of every country, city and town. The bewitched would first feel the physical symptoms similar to those of an upcoming cold, and just as these symptoms would fade away, they would start to strangely act against reason. The leaders would become delusional, childish, and in some cases, real tyrants. The message was bringing a warning: if the chosen leaders of a town would start to behave peculiarly, everyone had to recognize that they were victims of dark witchcraft and that a recovery plan should be established right away. This would avoid chaos and tyranny to take over the loved lands of all people. The solution was simple: to treat the bewitched leaders with compassion, love and playfulness, and to not take their ideas and demands seriously during the process of recovery, since their decision-making abilities were scrambled by the spell. 

Soon enough, all would notice the leaders of this neighbouring town who, as predicted, got the first symptoms and then started to act funny... One of them had the idea of forbidding everyone to go out on Saturday afternoons, because that’s when he needed quiet time; another one wanted to make everyone wear red clothing for a fortnight in order to help himself open up his own root chakra. 

The loving and proud people of the town on the hill, having been warned in advance, would smile back at the sick, nod their heads politely without having any intention of executing any of these orders. Together, they waited for the leaders to heal, and the spell to be broken, because until then, no leader could be chosen, and the population had to manage themselves...”

She was writing in an even, consistent flow. The writing experience was exquisite, the smoothness of the paper allowed her pen to slide like a figure skater on ice, and her ideas were perfectly aligned with the rhythm of the words appearing on the lines. She felt like she could go on forever, writing the story of this strange town perched on a hill in this little black book. 

The genie clapped her hands once again, forcing the woman to stop the tale where it was.  

She lifts her head, pulling herself out of a perfect state of creative harmony, where she was completely lost in her writing. The genie takes the book, showing off a grand smile of contentment on her face. The woman feels her phone vibrating once again.

“I wired you a total of 20,000$”, says the genie. “Thank you for this story!  But what will happen to the townspeople?”, she asks with genuine concern. 

The writer still couldn’t believe that she had just received a deposit of 20,000$. She was in awe. 

Feeling light and grateful, she answers:

“The people of the town will surely make it, but the way they do it is through another adventure… I could write the rest in this little black book, if you wish, and deliver the story to you the day it’s finished.”

The genie happily accepts the deal : they both agree on meeting again one day, at the same time, same place. After bidding farewell to the storyteller, the genie turns around a corner and disappears.

The woman was now standing alone in the subway, processing all that had just happened to her, even wondering for a second if it was all a dream, a pure fantasy or a product of her mind. She looks at her phone again, checks into her bank account: the money was right there, all the numbers were aligned. In shock, she puts her phone back in her pocket and the precious little black book in her bag. 

The curfew was now a few minutes away.