One crisp autumn morning, Farmer John discovered a most peculiar sight in his chicken coop. Nestled amongst the usual speckled white eggs was a cluster of vibrant pink ones. John rubbed his eyes, thinking he was experiencing things. Could his chickens be laying colored eggs? The news spread through the tiny town like wildfire, with everyone wanting

Amidst a sea of dusk, doze thirteen delicate dreams, painted in the softest hues of pink. Each dream is a murmur, a fleeting glimpse into worlds of sugarplum. Others dance on wings of iridescent silk, while yet others settle gently upon clouds of spun gold. The air is bathed in the scent of roses, and a gentle tunes drifts through the dreamscape.