Drawing Dreams
    
Jayne held the brush in her hand confidently, swirling it in golden paint and then bringing it to the canvas. Dipping the brush into a brighter gold, she painted on tiny scales. A dab of black became an eye; with a small shimmer of silver she added a last highlight and the fish was complete, looking nearly ready to hop off the canvas and swim away into the skies. It did.
    
She smiled with satisfaction, brush still dripping, as the fish swam around her happily, fins fluttering, and then swam up into the clear skies as if to show off. The canvas was blank again. She dipped her brush into lustrous black paint and created a beautiful bird that warbled and sang like a silver flute as it flew.
    
Soon, sitting on her small stool, she was surrounded by animals that flew and swam and fluttered and hovered. They often wandered off a ways into the skies, but at a whistle they’d come back to happily circle her once more.

She dipped her paintbrush into glittering emerald and serenely lifted it to the canvas, preparing for the first stroke when--
    
She woke up. Jayne sighed, rubbing her eyes, and looked at the clock. It was late. Throwing off her sheets, she padded over to her drawing table and sat down, still caught up in the wonder of the dream. She pulled out her favorite ink pen and a scrap of paper and began to doodle little creatures.
    
After a time she had gone through all the paper she had. Tiny animals cavorted all over the pages. But it was late--she really had to get to bed. Still, she stared at the drawings hard for a minute. She seemed almost surprised when they didn’t leap off the pages and come to life. Then she relaxed, laughed, and got back in bed. This was silly . . . it was only a dream. She closed her eyes and was asleep in minutes.
    
As she slept, a dozen tiny animals peeled off the pages and began parading through the air. . . .