Alex found the key on his pillow, heavy and old, its iron bow carved with curling designs. It didn’t fit the apartment’s locks...or any lock he knew. That night, a door appeared on his bedroom wall, tall and crooked, glowing faintly at the edges. Heart pounding, he slid the key into the lock. It turned smoothly, as though waiting for him. On the other side was not his hallway but a sunlit park...and a girl who smiled as if she had always known him. “You’re late,” she said. And the door closed behind him.