Upside down in the deep burgundy dark, his pumpkin lantern glows orange. A cold drip plops right between his ears. He shakes his head. *Fwip*. The droplet slides off. He blinks wide awake.
*Awake?* he thinks. He kicks his feet off the windowsill and pushes the little door open. Orange lantern light spills into the dark yard.
He steps into the yard and splats straight into a wet orange paint blob. It squishes up his tummy. He squeals.
He stamps both feet. The blob *plops* back to the ground. Two big orange paw prints sit behind him.
He looks at the prints, then at the trail of glowing firefly-stickers buzzing through the dark. *Follow?* he thinks. He chases them.
The firefly-stickers lead him to a big burgundy wall blocking the whole path. He bumps it with his nose—*thud*—and the wall folds up like an accordion.
A lane of glowing orange blocks stretches into the distance. His lantern swings. The flame catches a scrap of crinkled collage paper, and the whole lane blazes like a string of bulbs.
At the end of the lane, every firefly-sticker stops, lands, and arranges itself into one giant glowing shape. His lantern flickers. The flame shrinks. He holds it tight against his chest.
The shape lifts off the ground, floats down to his face, and pats his tummy with a soft warm glowing *tap-tap-tap*.
He walks home under the open burgundy sky. The whole night is stitched with orange glow. On his branch, a crinkled collage blanket tucks over his tummy. His eyes drift shut. Outside, the firefly-stickers hum a low *hmmmm* past his window.