Marcel has always said of himself, "I'm practical, I don't believe in miracles." His studio apartment on the fourth floor of a townhouse with green shutters was furnished simply, with no unnecessary decorations or trinkets. He worked remotely as a graphic designer and his daily life passed between coffee, his monitor and short trips to the shop around the corner. That Thursday, however, he felt something strange. First, he heard a quiet rustling from deep in the cupboard under the window. "I must be airing the flat too much," he thought, but as he got closer, the rustling calmed down, only to return in a moment with unexpected force. Marcel reflexively opened a drawer and he felt a whiff of freshly cut grass and the warmth of a sunny afternoon. He slid the drawer all the way out. On the bottom lay a piece of an old map and a key reminiscent of those for a door in a lock he had once seen in France. From behind the edges of the map, a light of a soft silver hue emanated, and after a moment he heard distinct whispers which, though quiet, did not let go of the moment: 'Open the door when the sun touches the windowsill'. Marcel felt a thrill of excitement. Could it be that a passage to another world was just opening up in his most ordinary room? He looked around uncertainly, checking whether he was sometimes dreaming. The clock read 4:07 p.m., and a ray of sunlight was slowly moving across the windowsill, bringing him closer to the drawer. He clutched the key in his hand and his heart beat faster with each passing second. Then something unexpected began to emerge from the map - like a mist, slowly shaping itself into a figure with indeterminate contours. Marcel already knew that an ordinary Thursday would turn into a day full of magic, if only he dared to cross the boundaries of everyday life....