Theodore was a boy who loved his box of crayons more than anything else in the world. He lived in a small, wooden house near the ocean. Usually, the waves crashed gently against the sand, but today, the sky was a deep, dark purple.

"Theodore, let's play a quiet game away from the window," his mother called out cheerfully. "The wind is strong today."

"I am safe right here," Theodore said. He was sitting under the big oak dining table. It was his favorite fort. He had his sketchbook and his crayons. He drew a picture of a sunny day to make himself feel brave, even though the wind outside was whistling a loud tune.

Suddenly, the window blew open with a *bang!* A gust of wind swirled into the room. But this wasn't normal wind. It sparkled with glitter and smelled like rain. It didn't pick up the house. Instead, it picked up Theodore's drawings! They swirled around him like a colorful tornado.

Theodore felt his feet lift off the floor. He wasn't scared; he felt light, like a feather. He spun around and around, surrounded by his own drawings of suns and flowers. Then, with a soft *poof*, the spinning stopped.

Theodore opened his eyes. He was not in his dining room anymore. The sky was not dark purple. It was a bright, shimmering lemon-yellow. The grass was not green. It was fluffy and blue, like cotton candy.

"Wow," Theodore whispered.

He stood on a path made of giant, shiny buttons. The path stretched out far into the distance, winding through hills that looked like scoops of ice cream.

"I need to go home," Theodore said to himself. "Mom and Dad will be wondering where I went."

Just then, a bush made of orange feathers rustled. *Shake, shake, shake.* Out popped a creature.