On little Ghost Knigi’s birthnight he got a book from his Aunt Abel. All she said when she handed it to him was, ‘I hope you enjoy reading this!’
Knigi was still quite young, but he was at
an age when human children normally learn
to read. And it was the same for ghost
children. ‘But something is wrong’, thought
Knigi. The book was absolutely white –
every page, from cover to cover…
The more he let his imagination run
free, the more incredible the stories,
colours and shapes were that spread
out over every page.
Now Knigi understood.
He had learned how to read.