The little girl wandered. Her shoes were too big, much like the world outside the library. Chapters were lost and she was looking for the ones that hid behind curly curtains. Stories fold like origami
Through the cracks of her imagination lies dimension–swirly, whirly, and twirly places. There she met a pink talking cloud who asked her where the sun beds for tea. She giggled, for clouds shouldn't hold sip cups.
Curiosity opened doors to rabbit holes. The whispers told her secrets but the secrets only knew songs.
Maps to the Moon | To the Whispered Woods | Mystic Glasses
With each wrong step into the maze, there bloomed a flower that giggled in pink. Every sound tickles her ears like little lost sails on waves.
Dreams flew outside the circus tent, whispering tales of their adventures past rainbows.
The chapters without words told stories louder, singing lullabies of crumbling stars and the color of sadness. Once, she met a dragon who said yawn in a melody, made up of shoelaces twisted round clocks.