I made myself small. I had to fit through the fairy door.  

The door creaked on invisible hinges. There was a skittering, the sound of tiny feet running … away. At first, I thought they must be hiding, but when I heard a door slam, I knew that they were gone.  

I stepped in boldly. There was a light that came from nowhere but lit everything like dawn or early dusk. I looked behind me: the door was still open, but it framed only darkness, though I’d stepped over the threshold from daylight.  

It was hard not to be apprehensive, but there was no obvious threat. I realized that I was in a storeroom. Tiny jars lined the walls. I got closer, almost expecting garish figures in formaldehyde, but this was not a horror movie scene. 

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