The sun dipped below the horizon as Danny strolled into the dusty little bookstore on the corner of Elm and Fourth. A bell above the door gave a sharp jingle, announcing his arrival. The place smelled like old paper and faintly of incense, the kind that made your nose tingle. Shelves of books loomed around him, some tilting as if they might topple at any moment, and the light inside was dim, making the place feel more like a maze than a store.
Danny wandered the aisles, his green hair catching the soft, flickering glow of an antique chandelier above him. He wasn't sure where to start looking—was there a section for dream notebooks?—but his curiosity kept him moving. He stopped near a table of blank journals, running his fingers over the spines of leather-bound and spiral notebooks, none of which seemed particularly special.
"Looking for something... specific?" a deep, gravelly voice said from behind him.
Danny jumped and spun around, nearly knocking over a stack of books. A man stood there, tall and gaunt, with sunken eyes that seemed just a shade too dark to be natural. He wore a long coat, even though it wasn't cold outside, and a crooked smile spread across his face.
"Uh, yeah," Danny said, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. "A journal. For, uh... dreams."
The man's smile widened, and he gestured with a long, bony finger for Danny to follow him. He led Danny to a small, dimly lit corner of the store, where an assortment of journals sat on a lone wooden shelf. The man reached for one in particular, a black leather-bound book with strange symbols etched faintly into its cover. They seemed to shimmer and shift under the light, though Danny chalked it up to his eyes playing tricks on him.
"This one," the man said, his voice low. "Perfect for someone with an imagination like yours."
Danny blinked. "How do you know I've got an imagination?"
The man chuckled. "Call it a lucky guess." He handed the journal to Danny, who hesitated before taking it. The leather was cool to the touch, and the faint shimmer of the symbols sent a tiny shiver up his spine.
"How much?" Danny asked, his voice breaking the strange silence that had settled over them.
"For you? Let's call it a gift," the man said, his smile never wavering.
Danny frowned, but the price—free—was hard to argue with. "Uh... thanks, I guess?" He stuffed the journal into his backpack and turned to leave. When he glanced back, the man was gone, as though he'd vanished into the rows of books.
Back home, Danny shut the door to his room, tossed his backpack onto the bed, and pulled out the journal. The symbols on the cover seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of his desk lamp. He opened it and ran his fingers over the blank pages, which felt oddly warm beneath his touch.
Grabbing a pen, he began to write everything he could remember about his dreams.
At first, it was just fragments: a sprawling meadow of gold grass that stretched endlessly, a sky painted in swirls of every color imaginable, and a giant, burning sun hovering just close enough to feel dangerous. He remembered running through the meadow, feeling the heat on his back, until the landscape shifted around him into something else.
A kingdom made of fire appeared next. Castles and towers rose from molten lava, their spires glowing white-hot. Rivers of flame snaked through the land, and yet it wasn't terrifying—it was mesmerizing, alive.
Then came the black hole. He hadn't realized it at first, but the moment his thoughts had stilled, the land around him began to crumble. Pieces of the world were sucked away into the black void, one by one, until he'd willed something new into existence.
And finally, there was Dave. A morphing, humanoid dolphin with sleek gray skin and a toothy grin that somehow managed to be both creepy and friendly. Dave could shift into different forms, sometimes tall and gangly, sometimes short and stout, but he always retained the sleekness of his dolphin features.
Danny filled pages with every detail he could remember, his handwriting getting messier the faster he wrote. By the time he was done, the journal felt heavier in his hands, as if it had absorbed some part of him.
The next morning, Danny wasted no time texting April.
Danny: Come over. Got something to show you.
April: If it's another dumb joke, I swear I'm gonna smack you.
Danny: No joke. Coolest thing ever.
April: Fine. Be there in 10.
True to her word, April showed up exactly ten minutes later, wearing her usual casual outfit: jeans, sneakers, and a hoodie that looked about two sizes too big.
"You better not have dragged me here for something stupid," she said as she walked into his room, brushing past him.
Danny smirked. "When do I ever do that?"
"Literally all the time," she said, flopping onto his bed and crossing her arms.
"Fair," Danny admitted. He grabbed the journal from his desk and held it up. "But this time, it's different. I swear."
April eyed the journal suspiciously. "Okay, I'm listening."
He sat down next to her on the bed, flipping open the journal and showing her the pages he'd filled with his wild dreams. "It's like... this whole other world. It's not just random stuff—it's connected. Look." He pointed to a drawing he'd made of the fire kingdom.
April leaned closer, her arm brushing against his. "That's... actually kind of cool," she admitted, her voice soft. She pointed at a sketch of Dave. "What's with the dolphin guy?"
"That's Dave," Danny said with a grin. "He's like... a shapeshifting guide or something. Creepy, right?"
"Totally," April said, laughing. She nudged him lightly with her shoulder. "I can't believe you came up with all this. Maybe you're not as much of an airhead as I thought."
"Hey, I've always been a creative genius," he said, smirking at her.
April rolled her eyes but smiled. "Sure, Danny. Whatever you say."
For a moment, they sat in silence, flipping through the journal. Danny could feel her warmth beside him, her presence making the room feel brighter somehow.
"Thanks for coming over," he said quietly.
April glanced at him, her cheeks pinkening just slightly. "Yeah, well... somebody's gotta keep you grounded."
Danny grinned. "You love it."
She smirked back. "Maybe."
The journal sat between them, glowing faintly in the soft light of the room, its pages holding more than just dreams—holding a connection that neither of them could quite put into words.