I noticed that the outside walls of the office looked rather small. I was expecting them to jut out a little. I spent god knows how long measuring the outside walls of the office over and over again, and I could *not* account for the extra width of the interior. Simply put, the outside was simply smaller than the inside. I couldn’t find an explanation. I was so absorbed in this endeavor that I completely forgot about the second floor of the house.

Defeated, I abandoned all hope regarding the dimensional anomaly, and I climbed up the stairs. Immediately, I was met with a bizarre sensation—with each step that I took, it felt as if I was descending—almost like the steps were shifting under my weight. The effect grew in intensity as the altitude increased. At the halfway point, I felt like I wouldn’t reach the end for another hour. The best way I could describe it would be climbing inside a “shepherd's tone”. The house was actively trying to frustrate my attempts to understand it. Was this mind trickery a tool of retaliation? Or rather, a benevolent warning for what’s to come? I reached the very top of the staircase after what felt like an eternity. I walked around the “second floor," which was quite similar to the first one in the sense that there was no furniture. I could see the actual first floor shrouded in shadow below me. But then I realized that the floor plan was essentially the same. I felt my stomach drop. Sure enough, the office was there. The exact same one. The same mahogany desk and skewed walls. I walked to the stairs again, beginning another painfully laborious, infinite trek. And there it was again. A carbon copy of the first floor. The exact same dents on the carpet, the same damn novelty office. So I kept climbing up the stairs. Over and over. I must’ve climbed at least a dozen floors. Each the exact same. There are no mechanisms that shift the entire floor down to achieve an illusion. This “two story” house has, for all I know, an infinite set of identical first floors, stretching out into some impossible void.