The Dark Tower II. The Drawing of the Three.
The Prisoner.
Chapter 1. The Door. 4.
Open it then. It's not locked. You know it's not locked.
Instead he tottered gracelessly to his feet and walked above the door and around to the other side.
There was no other side.
Only the dark gray strand, stretching back and back. Only the waves, the shells, the high-tide line, the marks of his own approach - bootprints and holes that had been made by his elbows. He looked again and his eyes widened a little. The door wasn't here, but its shadow was.
He started to put out his right hand - oh, it was so slow learning its new place in what was left of his life - dropped it, and raised his left instead. He groped, feeling for hard resistance.
If I feel it I'll knock on nothing, the gunslinger thought. That would be an interesting thing to do before dying!
His hand encountered thin air far past the place where the door - even if invisible - should have been.
Nothing to knock on.
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