How did I miss this? Glenn crouched on the small concrete stoop in front of the left-most door of his shop. He had opened the red-painted, dented door dozens of times, without a second thought. This time, though, as he shut the door behind him, he happened to see something...odd. A slightly raised section in the door, rectangular in shape, almost...like another door. With the coat of paint covering it, it was impossible to tell what exactly it was. Taking a step back onto the crumbling sidewalk, he frowned. Here and there, the paint had chipped away, revealing the original gray metal color. This would not do. This would not do at all. Sighing, he stepped forward, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. He had some paint remover in there somewhere...
A few hours later, well after the sun had set and the moon had come out, Glenn finished stripping the door to its original unpainted glory, although there was little he could do about the dents. After putting away the remover and pouring himself a glass of water, he stepped back outside, to examine the entrance again. At about knee level, a quarter of the way up the front door or so, there appeared to have been another door cut into it. It was about as tall as his index finger, maybe a little bit taller, and as wide as the span across his index and middle finger. Basic panels had been etched into the smaller entryway, in contrast to the stark industrial design of the larger door it was placed in. The carpenter grasped the tiny door knob, and attempted to open it. At first, it stuck fast, squealing its protest to being opened after so much time spent painted shut, but Glenn's persistence eventually paid off when it finally swung loosely on its hinges. With a triumphant grin on his face, he stepped inside to retrieve some lubricant and a tiny screwdriver for the hinges. He wasn't entirely sure why there was a door within a door, but he would be damned if it wasn't the cleanest, smoothest mini-door on all of Rue des Farfadets.
A few hours later, well after the sun had set and the moon had come out, Glenn finished stripping the door to its original unpainted glory, although there was little he could do about the dents. After putting away the remover and pouring himself a glass of water, he stepped back outside, to examine the entrance again. At about knee level, a quarter of the way up the front door or so, there appeared to have been another door cut into it. It was about as tall as his index finger, maybe a little bit taller, and as wide as the span across his index and middle finger. Basic panels had been etched into the smaller entryway, in contrast to the stark industrial design of the larger door it was placed in. The carpenter grasped the tiny door knob, and attempted to open it. At first, it stuck fast, squealing its protest to being opened after so much time spent painted shut, but Glenn's persistence eventually paid off when it finally swung loosely on its hinges. With a triumphant grin on his face, he stepped inside to retrieve some lubricant and a tiny screwdriver for the hinges. He wasn't entirely sure why there was a door within a door, but he would be damned if it wasn't the cleanest, smoothest mini-door on all of Rue des Farfadets.