The Dream Ticket Collector
A girl named Zara receives a magical ticket from Conductor Bramble, who collects her worries before taking her on the enchanted Dream Express to wonderful destinations every night.
- 5 min read
Every night before bed, Zara brushed her teeth, put on her pajamas, and climbed under her starry blanket. But tonight, something magical was waiting on her pillow—a small silver ticket that shimmered like moonlight.
Zara picked it up carefully. Written in swirly letters were the words: “ADMIT ONE TO THE DREAM EXPRESS. Collector will arrive at bedtime.”
“How curious!” Zara said, turning the ticket over in her hands.
Just then, she heard a gentle toot-toot! Looking up, Zara gasped. A magnificent train made entirely of clouds was floating right outside her bedroom window! Its carriages were fluffy and white, trimmed with gold stars that twinkled and winked. The engine puffed out little rainbow-colored dreams instead of smoke.
A conductor appeared at Zara’s window—a kindly badger wearing a purple uniform and a cap covered in tiny moons. He had a large bag slung over his shoulder and the friendliest smile Zara had ever seen.
“Good evening, Miss Zara!” he said with a tip of his cap. “I’m Conductor Bramble, the Dream Ticket Collector. May I see your ticket, please?”
Zara held up her silver ticket, and Conductor Bramble pulled out a special hole-puncher shaped like a star. Click! He punched the ticket with a satisfying sound.
“Wonderful! Now, before you board the Dream Express, I need to collect your worries. Can’t have those cluttering up your dreams, you see.”
“My worries?” Zara asked.
“Oh yes,” said Conductor Bramble, reaching into his bag. “Everyone has a few. They’re like pebbles in your pocket—perfectly normal to have, but much nicer to set down at bedtime.”
Zara thought for a moment. “Well… I’m a little worried about my spelling test tomorrow.”
Conductor Bramble pulled out a small glass jar with a soft glowing lid. “Pop it right in here,” he said warmly.
Zara whispered her worry toward the jar, and to her amazement, a tiny grey pebble appeared inside it. Conductor Bramble screwed the lid on tight.
“Excellent! Any others?”
“I’m worried that my best friend Milo might still be upset that I accidentally knocked over his block tower today,” Zara admitted quietly.
“In you go,” Conductor Bramble said kindly, and another small pebble clinked into the jar.
Zara felt lighter already, like someone had lifted a backpack off her shoulders.
“Now then,” said the badger, tucking the jar safely away, “let me check my collections for tonight.” He pulled out a magnificent book with pages that seemed to glow. “Ah yes, I’ve collected eight thousand, four hundred and sixty-two dream tickets tonight from children all over the world. You’re my last stop!”
“What do you do with all the tickets?” Zara asked.
Conductor Bramble’s eyes twinkled. “Why, I punch them and turn them into stars, of course! Every dream ticket becomes a star in someone else’s dream. That way, everyone’s dreams are connected—little sparkles of magic shared all around the world!”
He showed Zara his special hole-puncher again. The tiny star-shaped pieces that came out floated upward and actually turned into real twinkling stars!
“But before you board,” Conductor Bramble continued, “you must choose your dream destination. Where would you like the Dream Express to take you tonight?”
He unfurled a scroll that rolled down to the floor. Zara read the options:
The Giggling Gardens Dinosaur Dance Party The Upside-Down Bakery The Underwater Orchestra The Library of Living Stories
Zara’s eyes lit up. “The Library of Living Stories, please!”
“Marvelous choice!” Conductor Bramble made a note in his book. “Now, one more thing. Here’s a return ticket for tomorrow night.”
He handed Zara another silver ticket. “The Dream Express runs every single night, and I’ll be here to collect your ticket and your worries. We Dream Ticket Collectors never miss a stop.”
“Every night?” Zara asked happily.
“Every single one! Rain or shine, summer or winter, birthday or Tuesday—we’ll always come. Bedtime is the most important journey of the day, you see.”
The cloud train gave another gentle toot-toot!
“Now, you just close your eyes, snuggle down under your covers, and think about where you want to go,” Conductor Bramble instructed. “The Dream Express will do the rest.”
Zara climbed into bed and pulled her starry blanket up to her chin. She clutched her return ticket for tomorrow night.
“Will I see you again, Conductor Bramble?” she asked with a yawn.
“Every night at bedtime, dear Zara. Sweet dreams!” And with a tip of his moon-covered cap, Conductor Bramble began to fade like mist.
The cloud train’s whistle blew softly—toooooot!—and Zara felt herself drifting, floating, riding the Dream Express toward the Library of Living Stories, where books flew like birds and characters stepped right off the pages to say hello.
As she drifted deeper into sleep, Zara smiled. She wasn’t worried anymore. She knew that tomorrow night, Conductor Bramble would return to collect her ticket and her worries, just like he promised.
And sure enough, the next evening, when Zara climbed into bed, there on her pillow was another shimmering silver ticket, and outside her window, she could already hear the gentle toot-toot of the Dream Express pulling into the station.
Bedtime had become her favorite adventure of all.
The End
Sweet dreams, little one. The Dream Ticket Collector will be by soon to take you on tonight’s journey. All aboard!