#FromOneLine
He didn't like it when the stars moved. His father had placed that glow in the dark constellation on the ceiling, but they shouldn't be moving. Some unseen hand was at work. Like that toy that appeared suddenly, unannounced one night. He moved all the other toys away from it, because it mustn't touch his things.
They stared at each other. He was certain if he looked away, that it would sneak into his bed. Only when the sun climbed through his window, and wrapped its arms around him, did he realize that he had fallen asleep.