It seemed to be a day or so after my talk with the man in the Clockworks. I was back in my own carraige, pondering what he had said. If true, that meant that I only had to pass through that door to the left to get closer to reaching whatever it was that could save my granddaughter. He had spoken of unimaginable dreamscapes, whatever that meant.

I realized I had never really noticed that door before. It looked to be made of rusted iron, and looked rather unimportant, besides the fact that it was a tad larger than the door opposite. A large circular hatch sat right in the center.

It was heavily locked from this side, almost as if to keep anything on the other side out. But I had to find something to help my granddaughter. The doctors back in “reality” said that there was no cure. But if there was the slightest chance. . . .

I spun the hatch.