In a dream, anything was possible. Most nights, she spent her dreams crafting the perfect room.
Tonight, she wanted height. Towering bookshelves appeared with a thought, scattered all over the room like a maze. She added smaller shelves on the sides to serve as footholds, spaced just right for climbing. With her hands clasped behind her back, she hopped, light as a feather, to the top.
Carved into one wall, high above even the giant bookshelves, was her favourite staple of every room. An alcove beside a large window with the biggest, fluffiest pillows to curl herself in and the perfect view of the whole room.
She dove into the heavenly nest of pillows as the rest of the room continued to shift to her desire.
Bouncy floors, so soft and perfect that she could belly flop from the ceiling and not feel a thing. Bridges connected the top of the shelves to one another in fancy loops that created paths that looked more complicated than they actually were, as a maze should be.
And somewhere in the room, she hid a box.
“The floor is so soft.”
Right on time.
“Hello.” She waved to the dreamwalkers.
“Did you hide it?” the children asked.
“Yup. Go find it.”
The children dashed straight in.
Their guardian followed at a more leisurely pace. With a gentle leap, he rose above the shelves and touched down in her alcove. He pulled out a cake box. She created a low table with a wave of her hand.
“As always, thank you for opening your dream to us,” he said and opened the box, revealing a pie that could only exist in a dream.
“No worries. It’s fun when all of you visit,” she said as plates and forks snapped into existence, “So what new stories have you brought me this time?”
As the children happily explored her room down below, she had her own adventure, up in her comfortable alcove, through the dreamwalker’s stories of the dreams beyond her own.