You burst through the door, as a dozen tan mushrooms fall from the swing. You stumble over their round heads, and land on your stomach. The ground below you is green and wet- freshly watered grass. On your stomach, you look up and see an expansive sight.
Hundreds of stumps, thick and dead, go back for many miles. Each one rotting and wet from the humid temperature. The differing heights create a city of sorts- and decorating each "building" are mushrooms. Tan, flat, protruding slightly, trailing down like stairs. Further back, what look like hills roll over the horizon. It is too dark to see though. The smell in this odd space is Earthy, but the humid air makes it hard to breathe. Above you, a ceiling of stars stretch out beyond the horizons. There is a draft coming from the open door, and soon that shuts behind you as well. By the door, you see the few mushrooms you knocked over. They must have grown between the door and the wall.