Pip pulled on his explorer hat and opened the back door. Every blade of grass looked like a tall green forest.
A fat bumblebee bumped his hat brim. "Excuse me!" Pip chuckled and started sketching. The bee landed on his pencil and hummed a wobbly tune.
A bright yellow dump truck rumbled down the sidewalk. Its engine growled like a hungry dog. Pip hid behind a dandelion and watched it pass. "Whoa!" he whispered.
Pip sketched the wobbly wheels and the driver waving at him. On the park path, a peacock fanned its tail — every feather painted with blue, green, and gold eyes. Pip's sketchbook slipped from his paws!
Pip dove for his sketchbook, paws outstretched. He clutched it to his chest and scrambled up the hill. The sky turned deep purple.
A single star dropped straight down and tapped his nose. Cold and glittery. Pip gasped, opened the book — and the star slid onto the page, glowing bright. All the other drawings shimmered too.
Pip trotted home, the sketchbook heavy and full. The pages sparkled faintly in the dark.
Pip hung his explorer hat on the hook and curled into bed. The open sketchbook on the nightstand showed paper stars pulsing softly, like tiny nightlights.
