He looked in all directions at everything he could see. The moonlight on the roof and the white chimney; the silhouette of the rooftops across the road; Mark Thompson's rooftop. Even the white gravel road was glowing. It didn't look hard and full of stones. It looked like a fluffy blanket. Danny didn't want to get off the bridge. He lay down on his back as if it were a hammock. He kept a firm grip on the rope and stared up at the stars.
This was a magical world.
This was Danny Allen's place.
Danny Allen lives in Mundowie with his family and his dog, Tippy. For such a small town, there's always lots of things to do: tobogganing on the sand dunes near the haunted house; building tree houses in the back yard; and trying to kick a football over the roof of the Mundowie Institute Hall.
If only the man from the bank would stop bothering his parents, life would be perfect.