Isabelle had been dreaming all the time, lost in the stories of her favorite teacher, Jaqueline. Thanks to her she had learned that every work is the mirror of its author and had discovered the incredible power of books: to free the mind from the chains of reality and make it soar towards the sky, beyond all borders.
And so at those lessons the gray institute became a distant memory, while Belle lost herself listening to words of ink that came to life through the passionate explanations of her teacher. It seemed to her to go back in time and travel through the thoughts and feelings of men who lived centuries before. Those dreamers had imprinted their soul on paper, on each page they had left a part of them that time would never erase.

And so it was that Belle became deeply attached to the visionary Verne, the tormented Boudelaire and many other French writers and poets, but also to English, German and Italian authors... She felt like she really knew them and by now she knew how to recognize the style of each of them from the first page. Unfortunately, there was no library in the institute and even the one in the poor quarter was too scarce to satisfy Belle's curiosity. The teacher knew this and, precisely for this reason, she had decided to fill the void of culture that Belle's mind longed to fill, lending her every book that her model student had requested. She herself was a tireless reader and her very heavy bag was always full of books.

Also that morning, at the end of the lesson, Jaqueline nodded to Belle inviting her to come closer to the desk. Hesitantly, Isabelle trotted towards that smiling and bespectacled face.
"Miss Jaqueline, I haven't finished it yet: I'm about halfway through Peter Pan. It's wonderful: a pirate ship, a mysterious island, mermaids, magic dust..."
The teacher burst out laughing, amused by all that enthusiasm.
"I only gave it to you yesterday and you're already halfway there... You're lightning fast, Isabelle! I had no doubt you would have liked it: it is really an unparalleled classic for the imagination of its author."
Belle, relieved, leaned with her elbows on the desk, her face resting on her palms in contemplation of nothingness, lost in her imagination.
"Oh yes, you're right!"
Jaqueline placed a hand on her shoulder, admiring her big dreamy eyes.
"My little and avid reader... When you have finished it, I have another book ready for you."
"What is it about? Is it by chance a work by Verne? I would love to read another one of his extraordinary trips!"
"Unfortunately no, the Verne books I had I lent you all, by now ... But I discovered a place where maybe you could find others."
Isabelle lit up and began to jump for joy, leaving the desk and looking at her teacher with eyes full of curiosity.
"Really? Where?"
"It's a bookstore that's located in the middle-class neighborhood. Normally you wouldn't be able to go there, but tomorrow is the Total Equality Day and you really have to take advantage of it."
She smiled at her, then began to gesture to show Belle the path to follow:
"Go through the West entrance and take the right, following the main street, in the direction of the cinema. Turn left before the square, where the town hall is located, and you will find yourself in front of a very special bookshop."
Belle was already daydreaming of shelves and shelves full of treasures to browse.
"Do you think that with my few savings I could buy something?"
Jaqueline shook her head, but her trusting gaze did not go out.
"I don't think so: they are all ancient volumes, some quite expensive... But I met the owner just yesterday, a really nice gentleman, an avid reader and collector. I told him about you and he can't wait to meet you."
Belle's little heart was about to burst with emotion: she felt like she was a character from one of her favorite stories! Jaqueline had told a real bookseller about her... And he wanted to know her! It seemed impossible...
"He told me that if you're really that delicate and careful in keeping books, maybe he could lend some of them to you."
At those words, Belle's euphoria reached its peak, while her mind could not stop swirling.
"Do you really say? Did he say just that?"
Jaqueline nodded firmly, reflecting all the joy of her little student. She shook her eye in a complicit grimace, while the glasses slipped on the tip of her nose. She than pulled them up with his long, tapered fingers.
"Go to him tomorrow and then let me know what he tells you. Name me, and you will see that he will remember our conversation."
"Thank you, Miss Jaqueline, you are a fairy. You make every dream of mine come true."
The sweetness of that child was something incomparable! Jaqueline felt her heart melt at these words, while a warm blush made its way down her cheeks. She caressed her little head, trying to hide her shining eyes.
"I wish I could do more, my child. If only I could change reality and not just dreams..."

The future of that girl was already mapped out, unfortunately, like that of the other girls who were the daughters of proletarians or orphans. Jaqueline was just a pawn in the system, tasked with filling the minds of those students with notions. She believed in the power of words, however, and hoped that one day those girls could change that sad world, also thanks to what they had learned from the great authors of the past. She had to be able to make their dreams stronger than reality and, in Belle's case, she knew she had already succeeded.