It's five o'clock. I've spent almost the entire day in front of my computer. I look around my small apartment: it's a mess. I suddenly feel like tidying up a bit. I push aside some papers and packaging lying around on my desk.

Until then hidden by my belongings, I spot a strange little book. It has a completely black cover on both sides. It's not mine. I look inside: it has about a hundred pages, all completely blank. But who could it belong to? I look again to see if there's any marking on it. That's when I see, on the cover, written in small gold letters, Baptiste Mourier. That's me—and I'm sure those letters weren't there a moment ago.

This is too strange. I have no memory of receiving this book as a gift. Who put it there?

I take a pen and write “hello” on the first page. I don't know why. Suddenly, my writing disappears. I inspect the page: it's as if I never put my pen to paper. Strange. I scribble again. Once more, the page becomes blank. It's not just the ink that disappears, but also the creases I made when I wrote on it.

I'm confused by what I see. I decide to put the book in my bag to show my friends tomorrow.

The next day, I nearly forgot about it.

I spot the book in my bag when it's already 2 p.m. I take it out and show it to my friend Nicolas.

“Here, look at this,” I say to him.

I scribble on the page, and just like yesterday, everything disappears. He's amazed by what he sees.

“Let me try!” he says.

I lend him the book and my pen. He signs the book. This time, the ink stays.

He looks at me and asks, “How did you do that?”

“I don't know, wait.”

I take back my book and pen. I scribble again. Everything disappears. He tries again, this time scribbling anything. This time, the ink disappears just like mine did.

“That's weird,” I say. “It's as if only your signature remains.”

“Yes,” he replies. “How did you get that?”

“I don't know. I found it at home.”

“But that's crazy.”

“Yes,” I admit. “But it's useless.”

“Can you do magic shows?” he suggests.

“I really have other things to do,” I laugh. “How much would you pay me …