Lena is late again to the library on the corner of the market. Mrs Mira lets her go down to the basement to get old atlases. The basement smells of dust and map paint. The light bulb hums, shadows move on the walls. Lena likes the silence, because then she can hear the books whispering. Today something whispers louder, like the whistling of a bottle. The sound comes from a metal cupboard behind the map bookcase. The door is rusty, but it swings open slightly, as if waiting. Inside lies an untitled atlas in a grey cover. On the spine someone has carved a mark resembling a key and waves. Lena opens the atlas to a page with a white patch of ocean. Tiny dots flash in the blue, like leaves in the sun. Suddenly the paper grows chilled, like ice at the temples. - Hello? - asks Lena, although it's an absurd question for a map. A thin ray emerges from the white and glides across the floor. It stops at her trainer and pulses, like the heart of a hummingbird. The light bulb flickers; a warm breeze blows from the air vent. An island with a lantern appears on the page, its light twinkling like an eye. He hears a splash and a quiet ringing sound, like that of a bicycle. The atlas folds and unfolds, as if breathing. The key mark flashes and turns into a riveted door. The handle slides out of the paper, cool and sure. - 'I'll just have a look,' says Lena, but it doesn't sound certain any more. In the basement, something taps on the stairs, fast, getting closer. Someone or something knows the way to the bookcase, and the doorknob just moves on its own.