Image Description: The cover shows a surreal, space-fantasy scene. In the foreground floats Norman, a plain golden-brown ring donut with a light dusting of sugar. He has friendly eyes, a small smile, and dough-textured arms and legs, standing with a hint of “old rocker” casualness. A faint star-shaped sugar patch marks his side. Behind him, a glowing bakery portal shimmers, showing wooden shelves inside Gloria’s Bakery. Beyond the portal stretches the Donut Dimension: frosting clouds swirl, cinnamon-sugar planets orbit caramel suns, and sprinkles glitter across nebulae. In the distance, a glowing orb — the Sugar-sphere — radiates sugary light, hinting at the adventure to come. The title at the top reads: The Donut Dimension – Volume One: Norman and the Sugar-sphere.
Good morning folks.
Every map leads to a mystery, and Norman’s is no exception. Escaping the chaos of the Chocolate Chunk Belt, the Custard Comet carries Norman, Jammiana, and Professor Choco-Sprinkle toward their destination. In the jar of sprinkles, a glowing pattern has formed — a map leading straight to the Hole at the Centre of the Universe. But what lies inside the void? And what ancient truths are waiting to be uncovered?
Chapter Four – The Hole at the Centre of the Universe
The sprinkles shimmered faintly in the jar, swirling themselves into glowing lines that curved and spiralled like icing trails. Jammiana held the jar up against the starlight.
“It’s guiding us,” she murmured. “Right into the centre.”
Norman pressed close to the window of the Custard Comet as the glaze of space thickened around them. The stars stretched, their twinkle dimming. Then the light began to bend, rippling as though the whole dimension were one vast bowl of unset jelly.
And there it was.
The Hole.
A colossal void, perfectly round — the shape of a missing bite taken out of the universe itself. Everything nearby tilted toward it, crumbs and fragments circling the dark edge like a cosmic swirl of leftovers.
Norman’s stomach — or the place where a stomach might have been — tightened. “It’s… it’s just nothing.”
“Not nothing,” said Choco-Sprinkle, eyes gleaming behind his sprinkle-crusted goggles. “Unglazing. The point where the first donut’s glaze has begun to fail.”
They edged the Custard Comet closer, buffeted by the strange currents that tugged at their hull. Norman gripped the armrest, his sugar-dusted fingers trembling.
“Steady,” said Jammiana. “The pull will get stronger the nearer we go.”
As they drew closer, a faint glimmer appeared at the very centre of the Hole. At first it looked like starlight — then Norman realised it was a shape. Round, enormous, cracked with age.
It was a donut.
Or rather, what remained of one.
The Glazed Elder Prime.
Ancient, stale, its once perfect glaze dulled and cracked like old porcelain. It floated across the void, plugging the Hole, holding back the collapse with the last of its strength. Its voice rumbled through the Comet like the echo from a distant oven door.
“You have come,” it said slowly. “At last.”
Norman’s eyes widened. “It can talk?”
“All donuts speak, if you listen,” Jammiana whispered.
The Elder’s voice shook the glaze currents around them. “This dimension was baked from the First Donut. Its glaze binds every world, every crumb, every sprinkle. But the glaze thins. My strength fades. Soon the Sugarsphere will disapear, and all will fall into the Hole.”
ChocoSprinkle nearly fell over himself with excitement, scribbling notes with a candy-cane quill. “This proves it! The legends are true! The First Donut, the binding glaze, the Sugarsphere at the core!”
Norman stared at the Elder, whose ancient sugar crust shimmered with tiny cracks. “Then… what do we do?”
The Elder turned its crumbling gaze upon him. “To reignite the Sugarsphere, one must dive into the Hole itself. Only one who is plain — unadorned, unburdened by filling or icing — may pass through the glaze currents unharmed.”
Jammiana’s eyes flicked to Norman. He froze.
“Me?” he squeaked. “I’m just… plain.”
“Exactly,” said the Elder.
A tremor rolled through the void, shaking chocolate debris loose from the Hole’s edge. The Elder groaned. “Time is short. Decide.”
Norman looked at Jammiana. She gave him a small, brave smile. Choco-Sprinkle was already strapping equipment together with liquorice rope, muttering about history in the making.
The Elder’s voice boomed one last time, fading with the sound of crumbling glaze. “Restore the Sugarsphere… or be devoured by the void.”
The Custard Comet drifted in silence. Norman’s sugar patch itched faintly, glowing just a little brighter.
He took a shaky breath. “All right,” he said. “I’ll do it.”
Jammiana’s grin was quick and fierce. “I knew you would.”
And far below, in the endless darkness of the Hole, the Sugarsphere pulsed faintly — waiting.
Blind Man Makes 