There is a world that only really wakes up when it gets dark here. Its hills are soft, as if someone had knitted them out of light, and in between live the Bright Monsters — fluffy, glowing creatures with plenty to tell. In their very own way.
Who lives there? A few of them you may already know: the fluffy one with the coral hairdo who collects everything that glows. The see-through one you can watch the evening sky through. The three tall ones who have to fold themselves up to fit into one picture. None of them is ever in a hurry — hurry simply never got invented in this world.
Curiosity is the most important occupation over there. Anything that glows, hums or looks suspiciously round gets circled, sniffed and studied from every side until it has told its story. Why do stars sparkle? How deep is the sea? Questions like these simply lie around on the path there — you only have to pick them up.
And because the world is bigger than it looks, there is always something left to discover: the valley where the sand is pink. The canyon whose walls glow blue in the evening. The meadow where little lights rise up as soon as it gets dark. The brave ones walk a little further than yesterday — behind every hill waits a small adventure of exactly the right size.
When the day winds down, the Bright Monsters do what we do when words aren't enough: they huddle up. A cuddle pile is a perfectly normal way to end the evening there — whoever falls asleep first, wins. You understand the rules of that game immediately, once you're tired enough.
Sometimes the world itself holds still for a moment, as if it knew someone was watching. And sometimes — very rarely — someone looks back.
The rest of the world can't be described, only watched — sometimes with wide eyes, sometimes with heavy ones. You'll find the stories on the start page: for wondering, for getting clever, for setting out, and for drifting softly off to sleep. The Bright Monsters are already waiting. Calmly, as always.