Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The sound was rhythmic and comforting. The backyard air smelled sweet, heavy with the scent of fresh-cut grass and warm earth. Timmy wiped a tiny bead of sweat from his forehead and smiled. He loved his soccer ball more than anything. It was black and white, perfectly round, and it made the best sound when it rolled across the lawn.
Timmy lined up his feet. He wanted to practice his biggest, strongest kick. He took a deep breath, ran forward, and—*whack!*
His foot connected with the ball, but it went a little too sideways. *Whoops!* Instead of flying into the net, the ball soared over the flowerbed. It zoomed past the old oak tree and rolled right toward the thick, prickly hedge at the back of the garden. Timmy watched, hoping it would stop, but the ball disappeared into the shadows beneath the leaves.
"Oh no!" Timmy gasped.
He ran to the hedge. Usually, it was dark and scratchy under there. But today, a soft, golden glow spilled out from the bottom branches. It smelled wonderful, like vanilla cookies and warm milk. Timmy got down on his hands and knees. The ground didn't feel like dirt; it felt like a thick, fluffy carpet. He crawled forward, following the light.
*Whoosh!*
Suddenly, the ground dipped, and Timmy slid down a gentle slope. He didn't scrape his knees or bump his elbows. It felt like sliding down a mountain of pillows. He landed at the bottom with a soft *boing* and looked around in wonder.
He was standing in the most amazing stadium he had ever seen. The seats were made of colorful cushions, and the flags were silk ribbons. The field wasn't grass—it was smooth, green velvet.
In the center of the velvet field sat his black and white soccer ball.
