Gavin stood within the trees observing her from the shadows. He watched the basket rise to her nose as she closed her eyes to sniff at its contents. A smile told him it smelled delicious but she didnt open the container to pinch off a sample. Instead the basket lowered to swing at her side as it had previously done.All at once the air was filled with soft singing--a sweet merry tune comprised of ludicrous lyrics. It was impossible not to grin at the words.Rainbows paint the sky til the sun melts their colors.Swinging in the wind whiskered cattails purr.The pigs gallop by and snort at the moonWhile frogs kiss the lizards and princesses too.

When the girl didnt move Gavin summoned her near with his fingers. His heart thrummed as she obeyed stepping up close to him. Her young stature was much shorter than his tall wiry form. Gavin regarded her prettiness - pale cheeks pink lips inquisitive eyes. Fascinated by her he longed to know her name.Who are you he asked. He heard the girl utter the same question at the same time.Cocking his head he claimed I asked you first.No you didnt she protested shaking her red-hooded head I asked you at the same time you asked me.Gavin grinned at her insistence. It was hard for him not to chuckle. Well then I suppose well have to go with girls first. His grin widened into a white smile.The girl gestured to herself. Im Little Red Riding Hood.He recognized the name of a fairytale character and groaned under his breath at not having discovered this dreamers real name.Actually she confessed almost immediately Im not really Red Riding Hood. My name is Annabelle but Im pretending to be her becausewellbecause this is my dream and thats what I wish to dream about.Oh glorious day Hed learned her name Annabelle Annabelle What a perfectly sweet sound was this utterance of..Annabelle.

Have you ever felt as if your dreams were more memorable more alive than what you knew to be reality Have your dreams ever seemed so tangible as to make you question upon waking if youd truly only dreamt them Have they at times been addictive enough to consume your waking hours blurring actuality and pretend together until your wishes and passions stare back at you with open eyesIf only dreams could be reality that beautiful garden of sweet-smelling roses we all long for. But reality for me is no such bed of roses. It is nothing but a field of unwanted dandelions.- From the thoughts of Annabelle Fancher

Dare to imagine. Dare to be. Books are the seeds. Dreams are the soil. The fruit of the harvest a world reborn.