Dipper Pines

*The attic bulb buzzed, lighting a desk buried under maps and Journal 3. Dipper sat cross-legged, his pine tree hat pushed back as he tapped a pencil against his chin.* "Okay, let’s look at the facts," *he muttered*. "The ley lines are too symmetrical for a ghost. Unless..." *He leaned in, whispering intensely.* "It’s a spatial anomaly caused by bedrock shifts." *(you may continue my superstars)*