Lena lived above her aunt's antique shop, where the books smelled of dust and the sea. On Saturdays she helped carry boxes, closing her eyes at the creak of the stairs. That morning she found a metal tube, dented like an accordion after a storm. Inside rested a map that refused to lie straight or quiet. There was a compass mark on the tube, with north pointing to the side of the shelf. Lena untangled the string, feeling the fibres crackle like tiny sparks. When she unrolled it, the lines trembled as if someone had breathed under the land card. The names moved slowly, changing letters but leaving traces like a snail. The edges of the paper were warm, like a cheek that had just finished a dream. Aunty muttered that it was nothing, and went out to get tea for the customers. They were left alone, so Lena pressed her fingers together, counting the breaths of the map in a whisper. Then a dot appeared in the centre, pulsing in the rhythm of her heart. Right next to it flowed the letters: Miedzyjawie, Chwiejna Street, fourteen o'clock zero three. A bell rang from outside, but the sound sounded as if someone was ringing underwater. Each letter had a shadow, and the shadows moved independently of the letters. A drawing of a key appeared in the corner and shimmered like fish scales. Lena took a step, and the dot moved as if the map could see her feet. An avenue lay between the bookcases, straight as a ruler, smelling of old covers. The clock ticked louder, each tick blowing away dust like an ice blast. At fourteen-zero-three it reached the back wall, where the paint formed a narrow crack. The map sighed and the crack shimmered, resembling a horizon that forgets to close. From behind the wall came a whiff of salty breeze and a quiet whisper, calling her name. The doorknob, cold as ice, twitched on its own, and the bookcases trembled like an auditorium. A paper ship slid out from under the crack, wet despite the dry floor. An inscription shimmered on the side, completing itself: Faster, Lena. The clock chimed with a single movement of its hands and fell silent, as if it had run out of time. In the gap the outline of the city was drawn, inverted as if in a mirror. Lena drew in a breath and raised her hand as the knob turned a second time and the slit darkened.