A Door in the Lake

They rented a rowboat from a man who did not remember renting it to them the previous day. Daisy found this both reassuring and deeply unfair.

At the center of the lake the water turned still. The boat drifted toward a pale rectangle beneath the surface, too straight and sharp to be a rock.

Milo lowered his hand into the water. It was warm as bathwater, although the air was crisp. A brass handle rose slowly toward his fingers.

Juniper began laughing, the way she did when she was frightened. “Of course it is a door,” she said. “Of course time has a door.”