A log cabin, set up between two pieces of playground equipment. It’s a rental and we’re staying there soon, so I show up early and work in the electrical closet to set up routers before our stay.
The house is small and charming, but I happen to watch one of the staff as she goes into the basement. It has a very slight slope — 1/3 of a story per turn, dug out like Mr. Mulligan’s Steam Shovel — and at the bottom of this narrow inverted pyramid-like space there’s a small door, almost a hatch.
She disappears in there with some linens while I return upstairs to lounge and puzzle over how I might get in to this space, you know, for completionist’s sake.