The door— no no, the window, June told herself that a door would be much more dangerous so she was willing it to be no more than a window— flickered once but never lost the image seen through it; the woman in the dark, dark wood.

June cleared her throat again, still not brave enough to actually call out, to get the attention of the planeswalking thing before her. It would be like saying your nightly prayers and then hearing God respond. Quite the shock.

She watched and watched, wondering how long the anomaly would remain before it winked shut forever. If it ever did.

When June finally pried her eyes away to ensure that no one else was around, that the window was private, the window shifted. She whipped back expecting to see nothing but instead saw the Walker; the woman in the dark dark wood, now, for the first time, regarding her, sightless but seeing.

June stood there, petrified and now willing the window to close.

It did not. And when the woman in the dark, dark wood made a move through it, she knew that it was a door after all.