Johnny spots a tiny blue door in his room and opens it to find a shimmering tunnel that seems to know his name.
Johnny loved his cosy little room. Books leaned on the shelf, toy animals sat on the bed, and bright cushions made a soft nest on the floor. That afternoon he was building a tower from wooden blocks when the clouds covered the sun and the room turned dim and quiet.
Then Johnny froze. In the corner, where the table had been only a moment ago, there was a small blue door. It was round, like a moon, and a shiny gold handle glittered in the shadows. Johnny blinked hard. He had never seen a door there before.
He took a careful step closer. His fingers touched the cool handle. It turned with a tiny click, and the door creaked open just wide enough for a thin ribbon of light to spill out. Behind it was a tunnel that shimmered and swirled in rainbow colours, as if someone had stirred paint through the air.
A soft laugh drifted from inside.
Johnny held his breath. The tunnel seemed to breathe too, bright and waiting. Then, from somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered, “Johnny, come closer...”