Abigail knelt among the damp stones and lifted each one with both hands, piling them higher and higher. A tower of smooth grey rocks rose beside the patio, and white blossoms trembled in the heavy air.
Rain began to drum against the patio tiles, loud and sudden. The tower wobbled, teetered, and then came tumbling down in a clatter. Abigail scooped up her scattered stones and ran for shelter.
Inside, Abigail caught the living-room curtains and draped them from doorway to wall. They fluttered behind her like bright banners in a ceremony she had planned for no one.
She tied a red ribbon around the dog's neck, and he lifted his chin and stood very straight at the foot of the stairs, proud and serious.
Abigail marched down the hallway, her wallpaper gleaming as if a thousand candles were lit behind it. She pushed open the kitchen door and gasped.
The kitchen table was set with plates of imagined cakes, warm bread, and fruit glowing in golden light. The smell of baking drifted through the air.
At the end of the hall a grand staircase appeared, its steps carved with bright rainbow colors. Abigail stepped forward and began to climb.
She took three steps and tripped over her own feet. The imaginary feast tumbled from the table in a cloud of sparkling crumbs and fruit.
The dog trotted over, pressed his wet nose against her hand, and waited.
Abigail looked up toward the window, and there a real rainbow arced across the garden sky — wide, bright, and quiet.
She smiled, slow and sure, and leaned against the window frame. The castle was still waiting, just behind the glass.
The rainbow stayed, the dog stayed, and Abigail decided to go back out and rebuild her tower — this time higher than ever.