'Dream Entry day three
I was stuck in a small wooden box that had barely enough space for me to spread my wings. I looked up and on the ceiling there were three smudged numbers. 456. But I didn't know what they meant.
Then I woke up.'
Gilbert looked up from the journal.
"Your dreams are a lot different from mine," he said. "I noramally dream about flying cookies and pools of flies."
"My dreams are poetic," said Skylar. "Your dreams are just plain weird."
"If you want to hear something poetic I could tell you one of my Hikos."
"No thank you."
