I am standing at the store; the store I always looked at, that he told me to ignore. I am going in the store. My father will scream. I am tired, he wants me to be a lord. To marry and have a wife so I can rule his land. He will not let me without it, not even this little store. This little book store. I can not enter let alone be its lord. Or the owner's lord. The owner of the store.

I am standing in the store. I will find a book, a book about frogs. I will show it to my father, he will know it's from the store. The book store. I am finally in here now. A book about weddings. Now I'm angry. The owner is gone, his desk is empty. There is no one in the store. Where is the door? Well it is now gone. I did not go far, that can't be right. I am staring at the floor. I can't look forward, nor back. There is no up or down, there is only the floor. I am on my hands and tearing the boards, and I can see beneath the store. Where is the door? There was no door, we were always in the store. Of course, you're right. I apologize.

I am writing in the store. The book and I have started to write. I found it beneath the floor. I pulled it out and now I am writing the foreword. You hear that father? I am in the store, writing a passage, about the story you wanted to tell. I am ripping it out! I am burning the page! The fire from the book. The fire swells and then goes out, the book could never burn. But now it's gone, the page you're on, and now I will be too. I hope I will be far away when I open up the door. This is only the foreword. Look forward to more, father.