You unlock this door with the key of imagination.

Beyond it is another dimension, a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance,

of things and ideas.

You've just crossed over into the twilight zone.

The Twilight Zone. Richard Matheson's original short story that tonight's episode was based on started out like this.

The man in the dark raincoat arrived in German corners at 2.30 that Friday afternoon.

He walked across the bus station to a counter, behind which a plump grey-haired woman was polishing

glasses.

Please, he said, where might I find us? a plump gray-haired woman was polishing glasses.

Please, he said, where might I find authority?

The woman peered through the rimless glasses at him.

She saw a man in his late thirties, a tall good-looking man.

Authority? she asked. Yes, how do you say it? The constable.

Sheriff?

Ah, the man smiled.

Of course, the sheriff. Where might I find him?

After being directed, he walked out of the building into the overcast day.

The threat of rain had been constant since he'd woken up that morning as the bus was pulling

over the mountains into Casca Valley.

The man drew up his collar, then slid both hands into the pockets

of his raincoat and started briskly down Main Street.

...