An accountant begins to frequent a secret, or maybe not-so-secret, place.
The prevailing culture in this region is resolutely practical, which may be why the people here find the folly so irresistible. They have to visit once to prove to themselves that it really exists. Then their memories nag at them until they come back to confirm that yes, they remembered right, the doors really are immovable sections of wall painted to look like doors. The cellar windows really are the only way in.
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