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<<timed 0.5s t8n>><span class="image" id="title_house">[img[images/title_house.png]]</span><span id="main_title">\ <div class="title_div"><span style="color: #EEE; letter-spacing: 8px; font-size:36px;">SOFT EARTH</span> every ghost story is a love story <<link "a game by jon sorce">><<replace "#main_title">><<audio "soft_wind_loop" volume 0.7 loop play>><<audio "unusually_brave_guitar" volume 0.8 loop play>><<timed 4s t8n>><<audio intro_speech volume 1 play>>This town gets quiet in the fall. <<next 4.2s>>The streets fill up with leaves that catch stray words, <<next 3s>>and families retreat to their homes to pursue their private reveries. <<next 6.5s>>There are things that are not spoken of, <<next 2.6s>>especially to children: <<next 2s>>sickness, <<next 1.7s>>money, <<next 1.7s>>and the fire <<next 1.3s>>that took Grandma's house <<next 1.4s>>all those years ago. <<next 4s>>On an unseasonably hot autumn night, <<next 4s>>an unusually brave girl <<next 2s>>slips out of her bed <<next 2s>>and through the window <<next 2s>>to visit the house where Grandma died. <<next 4s>>[[This is her story.]]<</timed>><</replace>><</link>></div></span><</timed>>

<<audio "storyteller_breath" play>><<timed 3.5s t8n>><<audio "unusually_brave_guitar" fadeto 0.6>><<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.8>><<audio "cicadas" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.4>>It gets dark here. <<next 2.5s>><<linkreplace "You have to understand what that means.">>You have to understand what that means. <<timed 0s t8n>>Picture this:<<next 2s>> No streetlights. No houses for half a mile in either direction, no lamp in a window to guide your eye. The heat wraps itself around your neck and squeezes while the clouds above swell to the point of breaking. They must be about to burst apart, there must be a rain coming to clear this devil from the air. But until they break, they <<linkreplace "block out the stars.">>block out the stars. <<audio "unusually_brave_guitar" fadeto 0.3>><<audio "babbling_brook" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.6>><<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.6>> <<timed 1s t8n>>On a night like this, when the only sound that cuts its way through the thick air is the babbling of the river at the edge of the road, a ten year old girl lies in her bed <<linkreplace "pretending to sleep.">>pretending to sleep.<<timed 2s t8n>> I'm sorry. <<next 1.5s>>It's been so long since I told this story. <<next 2.5s>>I can never remember what I'm supposed to call her.<<next 2.5s>> Remind me. What was her name?<<next 2.5s>> [[Samantha|starting sequence][$name to "Samantha", $deadname to "Samuel"]] [[Jamie|starting sequence][$name to "Jamie", $deadname to "James"]] [[Andrea|starting sequence][$name to "Andrea", $deadname to "Andrew"]] [[Julie|starting sequence][$name to "Julie", $deadname to "Julian"]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>

<<audio "unusually_brave_guitar" fadeout>><span id="narrator_intro"><<timed 1s t8n>>Oh. <<next 1s>>Of course. <<next 2s>>How silly of me. <<next 2.5s>> Hello again, $name. <<next 2.5s>>I've missed you.<<next 5s>><<replace "#narrator_intro">><<timed 0s t8n>><<audio "armchair_creak" play>><<audio "television_sounds" volume 0.9 loop play>><<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.3>><<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.3>><<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.2>>It's 9:00pm, half an hour since Mom put you to bed. You hear the soft thump of Dad's armchair settling into place as it reclines, followed by the familiar jingle of the evening news. They won't check in on you again until the morning. Now's your chance. Are you ready to go? [[Yes.]] [[Not quite yet.]]<</timed>><</replace>><</timed>></span>

You throw off the covers and swing your legs over the side of the bed just as you hear Mom start up the vacuum cleaner in the kitchen below your room. The floorboards rumble against your bare feet. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you can see out the window overlooking the garage. [[You imagine there's a getaway car waiting for you just outside.]]\ <<audio "vacuum_loop" loop play volume 0.7>>\

Even though you've been planning this adventure for weeks, you can't help but feel a little nervous. This house is new enough that it hasn't started to creak yet, but what if Mom hears you open the window? What if Dad sneaks out for a smoke just in time to see you scampering down the hill? [[Look around your room.]] [[Keep your eyes closed.]]

Your bed is pushed up against the outer wall of the house, so the sloped ceiling sweeps up away from your headboard until it meets the far wall, a foot or so above a plain white door. Through the floor of your room, you can hear the sounds of the kitchen. To your right is a window overlooking the roof of the garage. To your left is a small dresser with a mirror resting on top. The mirror has been turned to face the wall. In the corner, a brand new softball bat pokes out from underneath a pile of dirty clothes. It's funny, [[Dad never used to care about whether you liked sports.]]

You keep your eyes screwed shut with your head under the blankets. You imagine it's like that old movie Dad always talks about, with the monsters that can't see you if you can't see them. Or was it that they can't see you if you don't move? Either way, you feel safe under the covers. Mom and Dad can't catch you sneaking out so long as you stay put. In the living room, you hear the news give way to a commercial for a local jewelry shop. Dad doesn't let you watch commercials. [[He says he doesn't want you to get any ideas.]]

From the kitchen below, you hear Mom start up the vacuum cleaner. You've stayed put for as long as you could, but it's time to get going. Now or never. You push the covers to the side, slip out of bed, and tiptoe over to the pile of laundry, kicking the softball bat out of your way as [[you dig through the mountain of clothes.]]\ <<audio "vacuum_loop" loop play volume 0.7>>\

Through the floor, you hear Mom start up the vacuum cleaner. You've stayed put for as long as you could, but it's time to get going. Now or never. You push the covers to the side, slip out of bed, and tiptoe over to [[the pile of dirty laundry in the corner of your room.]]\ <<audio "vacuum_loop" loop play volume 0.7>>\

A brand new softball bat pokes out of the bottom of the pile. You push it aside and reach under the mountain of dirty clothes, groping around in the darkness until your hand meets the strap of [[the bag you hid here last weekend.]]

It's hard to find anything in all this mess, especially in the darkness, but you don't dare turn on the light. Your hands run through the fabric in the pile—sweaty, wrinkled, starting to smell just a little bit—until you find the strap of [[the bag you hid here last weekend.]]

The bag isn't very big. A little larger than your head, gray, with two thick black straps for holding and a zipper that splits it open down the middle. It's not quite big enough for everything you wanted to bring—the zipper stops an inch early and refuses to budge—but it's the best you could do. See, you couldn't use your own bag. You had to pack everything and hide it a week ago, and Mom would notice if you stopped bringing your backpack to school. And you knew it was probably paranoid, but if you took a bag from the attic, then Mom or Dad might have noticed it missing. No, the safest thing to do was to borrow a bag from someone at school and swear them to secrecy. What was their name? [[Simon]] [[Hannah]]\ <<audio "vacuum_loop" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "television_sounds" fadeto 0.5>>\

You have to be careful. There's no getaway car, but there is Dad's porch chair, a few feet to the left of the garage and smack dab in the middle of your escape route to the river. He usually doesn't smoke when Mom's home, but if he comes out for a cigarette then he might catch you on your way through the window. But he won't catch you. He can't. This plan has been brewing for weeks. [[You've gotten very good at being patient.]]

Summoning a burst of courage, you rest your weight on the floor and hold your breath. This house is new enough that the floors don't creak yet, but—well, <<linkreplace "everything's got to start some time.">>everything's got to start some time.<<timed 1s t8n>> Nothing. The sound of Mom's vacuum cleaner continues in the kitchen, and from the living room you can hear the news give way to a commercial. More confident, now, you scamper over to [[the pile of dirty laundry in the corner of your room.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>>

<<linkreplace "You can tell Simon doesn't really want to be your friend anymore.">>You can tell Simon doesn't really want to be your friend anymore. <<timed 0s t8n>>He hasn't said anything mean to your face, but he avoids eye contact whenever he's around the other kids. <<linkreplace "Sometimes you hear them laughing when you walk by.">>Sometimes you hear them laughing when you walk by. <<timed 0s t8n>>Whenever it happens, Simon looks at his shoes and hunches his shoulders up over his ears like a turtle crawling back into its shell.<<next 3.5s>> He gave you the bag, though. Two weeks ago, you caught him on the playground just as the bell rang. He hesitated when he saw you, checked over his shoulder to see if any of his friends were watching. <span id="nest-1">When you told him about your plan, his eyes opened wide. "<<click "For real?">><<replace "#nest-1">>When you told him about your plan, his eyes opened wide. "For real?" he asked, his head nodding uncontrollably. <<timed 0s t8n>>"<<click "For real,">><<replace "#nest-1">>When you told him about your plan, his eyes opened wide. "For real?" he asked, his head nodding uncontrollably. "For real," you said. <<timed 0s t8n>>The next day, <<next 1.5s>>[[he brought the bag to school.]]<</timed>><</replace>><</click>>" you said.<</timed>><</replace>><</click>>" he asked, his head nodding uncontrollably.</span> <</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>>\ \ <<audio "television_sounds" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "sparkles" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<set $friend_name to "Simon">>\ <<audio babbling_brook fadeto 0.2>>\

<<linkreplace "Hannah had a talent for being liked, and it worked on you.">>Hannah had a talent for being liked, and it worked on you. <<timed 0s t8n>>Her family lives close to yours—well, closer than most—so when your parents first started letting you leave the house on your own, she became your best friend. <<linkreplace "At least for a while.">>At least for a while. <<timed 0s t8n>>The path is still written so deeply in your bones that you could make the trek blindfolded. Half a mile up the river until you hit the big rock that looks like a cracked tooth, left across the tracks that haven't run a train in ten years, on the far edge of a field that once grew crops and now grows weeds. Beautiful and silent in the winter, <<linkreplace "swollen up with flies in the summertime.">>swollen up with flies in the summertime. <<timed 0s t8n>>The friendship didn't last. <<next 3s>>She was good at making friends, much better than you, but not so good at keeping them. She still likes you, you think, but she started treating you differently a few months ago. Like she knew something had changed. But when you asked to borrow a bag, [[she didn't ask any questions.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>> <<audio "television_sounds" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "sparkles" loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<set $friend_name to "Hannah">>\ <<audio babbling_brook fadeto 0.2>>\

You've been planning your own adventure for weeks, ever since the rain stopped. Ever since the leaves of grass on the hill started to dry and curl at the tip under the last days of summer. Ever since the river ran low. Mom and Dad sleep late on Saturdays, making those mornings the perfect time for mischief. Tonight, it'll give you the chance to get back home before they notice you're missing. Last Saturday, it gave you the chance to pack your adventuring kit without raising suspicion. First thing's first: you knew you needed to be able to find your way around in the dark. Which light did you take? [[The headlamp in the garage.]] [[The flashlight in the basement.]] <<audio "sparkles" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.3>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio babbling_brook fadeto 0.3>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>Last Friday—a full week ago now—Simon came up to you at the end of recess with a mass of gray cloth tucked under his arm. He shoved it into your hands and stepped back, eyes glued to his shoes. This time, though, it wasn't embarrassment keeping him from making eye contact. Something else, <<linkreplace "harder to place.">>harder to place.<<timed 0.5s t8n>> "I hope you find her," he said.<<next 3s>> He told you the bag was supposed to be used for carrying a bowling ball, that his dad used it back in college when he bowled with a local team. You don't believe him, of course. His dad must not want him to know the truth about his past. A bag this size, this sturdy, built to carry around <i>bowling balls</i>, of all things? <<linkreplace "No, no.">>No, no.<<timed 0s t8n>> [[This is a bag for adventurers.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>Last Friday—a full week ago now—Hannah met you on the train tracks upriver, halfway between your homes. She stood on the other side, feet planted an inch from the rusted steel of the track, a thick rectangle of gray cloth pressed between her fingers. She smiled—smirked?—and you were glad she hadn't asked you for an explanation. Hannah was the first of your friends to <<linkreplace "stop believing in magic.">>stop believing in magic.<<timed 0s t8n>> She told you the bag was supposed to be used for carrying a bowling ball, that her dad used it back in college when he bowled with a local team. You don't believe her, of course. Her dad must not want her to know the truth about his past. A bag this size, this sturdy, built to carry around <i>bowling balls</i>, of all things? <<linkreplace "No, no.">>No, no.<<timed 0s t8n>> [[This is a bag for adventurers.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>

<<set $light_source to "headlamp">>Earlier this year, Dad bought an old car at a police auction with the hopes of fixing it up, which seems like the kind of thing fathers are supposed to do. He parked it in the garage and kicked the family car out into the driveway, promising that he'd have it up and running within a few weeks. By your count, it's been at least two months since he last touched it. Mom might be a bit exasperated with him, but it was the perfect opportunity to stock up for your mission. Dad wasn't likely to notice if his headlamp went missing for a week, and so last Friday night you squeezed your eyes tight until you were sure Mom and Dad had both gone to bed, then [[snuck out to the garage.]]

<<set $light_source to "flashlight">>Dad always says the basement is being "remodeled," but you haven't seen him go down there in a long time. A few months ago he tore up all the carpeting and carted in a stack of new tile, gathering his tools from the garage and scattering them around the base of the stairs. Mom says he's never going to finish it, that they should just hire someone to get it over and done with. She'd pay any price to stop looking at that old dirt floor. Luckily for you, it's probably not going to get finished any time soon, so the tools Dad left down there are ripe for the taking. Last Friday night, seven days ago now, you squeezed your eyes tight until you were sure Mom and Dad had both gone to bed, then [[snuck down to the basement.]]

It was pitch black, but you were afraid to turn on the light. You tiptoed down the narrow staircase until you felt the dirt of the old foundation against your bare feet, then groped around in the darkness until you found the studded handle of Dad's flashlight beneath your fingers. You promised yourself you wouldn't be afraid of the dark, but [[it's always nice to have a little light.]]

It will be dark on the river. This is the truth of the fall, on hot nights, in places wanting for rain. The sprites that make up the clouds have all aligned, have cast their wings wide to soak in the starlight. They spread across the sky, layers upon layers of softly sparkling bodies drawing a curtain between the earth and the stars. Grandma used to tell stories about them. She saw one, once, tumbled from the sky with a hole in its wing to land on her back porch. She didn't even blink, she said, just pulled out her needle and thread and stitched it together again. A quick fix, a kiss on the head, and she sent the poor creature back up into the sky. After that, she never wanted for rain. Water would fall on her porch when the rest of the town was bone dry, and the flowers on the sills of the house in the woods always stretched their heads tall to the sky. Mom would roll her eyes when Grandma told you stories like that. Grandma would shrug her shoulders and give you a wink. She trusted you. [[You still believed.]] <<audio "sparkles" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.5>>\

It was pitch black, but you were afraid to turn on the light. You tiptoed down the stairs and through the kitchen, groping around in the darkness until you found the metal doorknob that leads from the house to the garage. Holding your breath, you pried the door open just wide enough to slip through, snatched the headlamp from Dad's workbench, and dashed back out to the kitchen as fast as you could. You promised yourself you wouldn't be afraid of the dark, but [[it's always nice to have a little light.]]

<<if $just_taken eq "mister_bones">>His fur is still soft. Softer over the years. In the back of your mind, you know that's because whatever synthetic fiber they used to make the fur breaks down with age. In your heart, though, you just can't imagine someone <i>making</i> Mister Bones. He's always been there, since before you were born, a little gray mutt with big black eyes. You've never gone on an adventure without him. Try as you might, you couldn't leave Mister Bones behind. Dad can't find out—he thinks you're too old for stuffed animals—but if Dad catches you, then Mister Bones is the least of your worries.<<elseif $just_taken eq "compass">>If there's one thing you've learned from books, it's that adventurers always carry compasses. Still, you've never quite been sure how to use one. You know the needle points north, but that doesn't seem particularly useful in practice. Still, every description of every adventurer's kit in every book you've ever read always starts with a compass, and you're not about to break tradition. Luckily, you already had one in your room—a big brass gadget that Mom gave you a few years ago, left over from her camping days in college.<<elseif $just_taken eq "journal">>A good explorer always documents her discoveries, so you made sure to pack your journal. Plus, it wouldn't do to leave a secret record lying around at home where anyone could find it. It's a bright blue notebook, clothbound, only a little bit longer than your hand. The leaves of paper inside alternate in style—a few sheets of wide-ruled lines for writing, then a double-sided blank page for drawing. The name "$name" is written in tiny, messy print on the inside of the front cover. The first ten or so pages are filled with notes and sketches, all dated from the beginning of the summer. If everything goes according to plan, you'll have something new to write about tonight.<<elseif $just_taken eq "socks">>Good call. The river's been low for a few weeks, but the rocks are still slippery. It would be easy to fall in, and you don't want to walk around with puddles in your heels all night. You have to keep the river as far from Grandma's house as possible if you don't want to break the spell. You decided to take your old sneakers—mint green, white laces, the same style as the dark red pair you're wearing now. One size too small. You stuffed an extra pair of socks under the tongues of the shoes to save space, laced them to each other, and crammed the whole mess into the bottom of the bag. Backup, in case anything goes wrong.<</if>> You had room for one more thing. What was it? <<if $has_compass != "yes">>[[Mom's old compass.|packing step 2][$just_taken to "compass", $has_compass to "yes"]] <</if>><<if $has_journal != "yes">>[[Your private journal.|packing step 2][$just_taken to "journal", $has_journal to "yes"]] <</if>><<if $has_socks != "yes">>[[An extra pair of lucky river shoes.|packing step 2][$just_taken to "socks", $has_socks to "yes"]] <</if>><<if $has_mister_bones != "yes">>[[Mister Bones.|packing step 2][$just_taken to "mister_bones", $has_mister_bones to "yes"]]<</if>>

<<if $just_taken eq "mister_bones">>His fur is still soft. Softer over the years. In the back of your mind, you know that's because whatever synthetic fiber they used to make the fur breaks down with age. In your heart, though, you just can't imagine someone <i>making</i> Mister Bones. He's always been there, since before you were born, a little gray mutt with big black eyes. You've never gone on an adventure without him. Try as you might, you couldn't leave Mister Bones behind. Dad can't find out—he thinks you're too old for stuffed animals—but if Dad catches you, then Mister Bones is the least of your worries.<<elseif $just_taken eq "compass">>If there's one thing you've learned from books, it's that adventurers always carry compasses. Still, you've never quite been sure how to use one. You know the needle points north, but that doesn't seem particularly useful in practice. Still, every description of every adventurer's kit in every book you've ever read always starts with a compass, and you're not about to break tradition. Luckily, you already had one in your room—a big brass gadget that Mom gave you a few years ago, left over from her camping days in college.<<elseif $just_taken eq "journal">>A good explorer always documents her discoveries, so you made sure to pack your journal. Plus, it wouldn't do to leave a secret record lying around at home where anyone could find it. It's a bright blue notebook, clothbound, only a little bit longer than your hand. The leaves of paper inside alternate in style—a few sheets of wide-ruled lines for writing, then a double-sided blank page for drawing. The name "$name" is written in tiny, messy print on the inside of the front cover. The first ten or so pages are filled with notes and sketches, all dated from the beginning of the summer. If everything goes according to plan, you'll have something new to write about tonight.<<elseif $just_taken eq "socks">>Good call. The river's been low for a few weeks, but the rocks are still slippery. It would be easy to fall in, and you don't want to walk around with puddles in your heels all night. You have to keep the river as far from Grandma's house as possible if you don't want to break the spell. You decided to take your old sneakers—mint green, white laces, the same style as the dark red pair you're wearing now. One size too small. You stuffed an extra pair of socks under the tongues of the shoes to save space, laced them to each other, and crammed the whole mess into the bottom of the bag. Backup, in case anything goes wrong.<</if>> You glance over at your dresser at the things you left behind:<<if $has_compass != "yes">> A big, brass compass with a bright red needle from Mom's camping days in college.<</if>><<if $has_journal != "yes">> A thin blue notebook with the name "$name" scrawled on the inside of the front cover.<</if>><<if $has_socks != "yes">> A pair of beaten-up shoes, mint green, one size too small.<</if>><<if $has_mister_bones != "yes">> A small stuffed dog with gray fur and mournful eyes.<</if>> You've worked too hard to get cold feet now. <span style="padding-left: 35%">[[It's time to go.]]</span>

<<timed 1.5s t8n>>You packed the essentials first. In with the $light_source went a handful of hair ties, two granola bars, and a half-crushed juice box with a thinly-wrapped straw pasted to the back. You figured you could fit two more things in the bag if you really squeezed. What was the first thing you picked? [[Mom's old compass.|packing step 1][$just_taken to "compass", $has_compass to "yes"]] [[Your private journal.|packing step 1][$just_taken to "journal", $has_journal to "yes"]] [[An extra pair of lucky river shoes.|packing step 1][$just_taken to "socks", $has_socks to "yes"]] [[Mister Bones.|packing step 1][$just_taken to "mister_bones", $has_mister_bones to "yes"]]<</timed>> <<audio "vacuum_loop" fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio "sparkles" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "television_sounds" fadeto 1>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.3>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.3>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.4>>\

You hoist the bag over your shoulder, slide the window up as high as your arms can reach, and slip out onto the roof of the garage. The soles of your shoes scrape against the shingles. It's hot. Unbearably so. Summer ended over a month ago, but here she is, wrapping her thick fingers around your arms. You can feel pressure between your shoulderblades from where your shirt clings to the beads of sweat already forming on your back. A single light shines from the porch, casting its glow about thirty feet into the yard before being swallowed up by the night. The sounds of the TV continue inside. A few quick steps into the darkness, and you'll be safe. You can't risk turning on your $light_source until you get to the river. [[You'll have to find your way by sound alone.]] <<audio "vacuum_loop" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "television_sounds" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.4>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.7>>\

At the bottom of the hill, the river patters along. Its usual roar has been reduced to a murmur by a season without rain, but the sound still cuts through the air like a church bell. Words get lost on nights like these, swallowed up by the dead leaves or the hot air or the space between your mouth and someone else's ear. The sounds of battery-powered radios on the windowsills of old houses barely make it five feet into the night before being swallowed whole. The new highway that made your parents so angry when its endless hum started interrupting their sleep might as well be a legend. Lifted from the earth, disappeared into the fog. [[But you can always hear the river.]] <<audio "television_sounds" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.4>>\

Grandma used to say that if you listened close enough, you could hear words in the sounds of the water. The soul of an old wizard, drowned in the river long ago, whispering spells for all eternity. <i>What kinds of spells?</i>, you asked. <i>Spells to keep the spirits away</i>, she said. For want of rain, the wizard is weak. All his words are caught up in the clouds, held back by the sprites in the sky. Maybe Grandma asked them for one last favor. She must have. Because on a night like this, when the river is low, [[the spirits might come back.]] <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.3>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.4>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You can't afford to wait any longer. If Dad comes out and sees you, it'll be over. You slide down the roof to the lip of the garage, hook one hand over the gutter, and swing yourself <<linkreplace "down to the ground below.">>down to the ground below.<<timed 0s t8n>><<audio "father_hum" volume 0 fadeto 0.3 loop>><<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0>><<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.2>> <<linkreplace "You planned to land in a crouch.">>You planned to land in a crouch.<<timed 0s t8n>> <<linkreplace "But the bag is heavier than you thought.">>But the bag is heavier than you thought.<<timed 0s t8n>> <<audio "clack" play>> It pulls you down and clanks against the ground, the sharp sound of plastic against asphalt as your $light_source slaps the driveway through the cloth.<<next 5s>><<audio "father_hum" fadeto 0.5>> Behind you, [[the screen door creaks.]]<<audio "screen_door_creak" play>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>> <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.4>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.4>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You're off already, <<next 1s>>down the hill, <<next 1s>>eyes shut tight, <<next 1s>>barely breathing. <<next 3s>>One misplaced stride, <<next 1s>>a stray rock underfoot, <<next 1s>>lost balance, <<next 1s>>and you're on the ground. <<next 3s>>The grass is cool against your bare knees.<<next 4s>> <<audio "father_hum" fadeto 0.7>> You snatch a glance over your shoulder, and [[there he is.]]\<</timed>> <<audio "running" volume 0.8 play>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><<next 2s>>You follow the sound of the water until you feel the grass give way to dirt beneath your feet. The bubbling of the river is louder than ever. It can't be more than twenty feet ahead, but you can't see a thing. <<linkreplace "You have to switch on your $light_source to move further.">>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("light_overlay").style.display="inline"; <</script>>\ <<removeclass "body" "mostly-dark">>\ <<removeclass "html" "mostly-dark">>\ <<audio "flashlight" play>>\ The banks of the river are bone dry. The smooth stones of the riverbank, usually buried under a few feet of water, shine in the beam of your $light_source. Bright white, a few streaks of red. A few feet ahead, a stiff drop marks the lip of the river. You slide down, not entirely gracefully, [[until you reach the edge of the water.]]<</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.6>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.3>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>It looks a little sad, really. A few inches of water winding their way about rocks and roots and dead branches. But Grandma taught you better than to judge things by appearance. You'll have to be careful. <<if $has_socks eq "yes">>You switch into your lucky river shoes, tight as they are, and step out onto a wide rock in the middle of the creek. It's good that you brought a backup—if these shoes slip into the river, you're ready to throw them away. Anything is better than running the risk of carrying the spell into Grandma's house.<<else>>You slip out of your shoes and socks and bunch them underneath your arm. You can't afford to get them wet—one stray slip and you might end up carrying the spell into Grandma's house with you.<</if>> These are the rules you learned: follow the river, and you'll find your way. The water will bring you safely through the woods. And if you go long enough— [[You'll find the house where Grandma died.]]<</timed>> <<audio "cicadas" fadeto 0.3>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" fadeto 0.7>>\

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 15%;"><<timed 3s t8n>><<audio TRKOS volume 0.3 play>><<next 4s>><span style="padding-left: 15%">Can you hear it?</span> <<next 4s>> <span style="padding-left: 25%">In the wind?</span><<next 5s>> Something whipping through the trees, <<next 2s>>still faint. <<next 4s>>Too weak for words.<<next 6s>> <span style="padding-left: 5em"></span>You are running, <<next 0.8s>>now, <<next 0.8s>>too <<next 0.2s>>too <<next 0.2s>>fast. <<audio soft_wind_loop fadeto 0.3>><<next 4s>>The wind is changing, <<next 2.5s>>the voice rises, <<next 3.5s>>the sounds of the woods have all but faded away.<<next 5s>><<next 1s>> <span style="padding-left: 25%"><<if $has_socks eq "yes">>The rocks slip beneath your feet.<<else>>The rocks scrape the soles of your feet.<</if>></span><</timed>> <span style="padding-left: 35%; font-style: italic;"><<timed 51s t8n>>This <<next 0.5s>>place <<next 0.5s>>feels <<next 1s>>familiar.<</timed>></span> <<timed 57s t8n>><span style="padding-left: 10%">As for the house?</span><<next 5s>> <span style="padding-left: 35%">[[It looks just like it always did.|Never be afraid of the dark.]]</span><<audio TRKOS_loop volume 0 fadeto 0.8 loop>><</timed>></div> <<audio "cicadas" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "soft_wind_loop" fadeto 0.4>>\ <<audio "babbling_brook" unloop fadeout>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="ingame_house">[img[images/ingame_house.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> <span id="text_1">The wind howls. The trees shudder. The roof is caved in. <<link "But she's still here.">><<replace "#text_1">><span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 4.5s t8n>>Is <<next 0.1s>>that <<next 0.1s>>you, <<next 0.7s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love?<</timed>></span> <<timed 8s t8n>><<link '"It\'s me, Grandma."'>><<replace "#text_1">><<timed 0s t8n>>The wind changes direction, and <<link "she's gone.">><<replace "#text_1">><<timed 0s t8n>>The house stands ahead, looming and somehow luminous, peering over the edge of the river. You get the impression that each of its windows is an eye staring into your own. But the spell isn't broken yet. It can't be. She has to stay until it rains. [[Maybe if you get a little closer...]]<</timed>><</replace>><</link>><</timed>>\ <<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.3>>\<</replace>><</link>> <<link '"I came to tell you something."'>><<replace "#text_1">><<timed 1.5s t8n>>The wind changes direction, and <<link "she's gone.">><<replace "#text_1">><<timed 0s t8n>>The house stands ahead, looming and somehow luminous, peering over the edge of the river. You get the impression that each of its windows is an eye staring into your own. But the spell isn't broken yet. It can't be. She has to stay until it rains. [[Maybe if you get a little closer...]]<</timed>><</replace>><</link>><</timed>>\ <<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.4>>\<</replace>><</link>><</timed>>\ <<audio "cicadas" volume 0 fadeto 0.4 loop>>\ <</replace>><</link>></span> <<audio soft_wind_loop unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio wind_2 loop play fadeto 0.7>>\ <<audio reveal_wind volume 0.6 play>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You clamber over the edge of the river, hands grasping for roots that loop out of the bank before finding their way back into the soil. At the top of your climb, a thick line of too-long grass marks the edge of Grandma's property. You were so close. In the sound of the wind, you can still hear her voice. And as long as you can hear the music, [[it should be possible to bring her back.]]<</timed>>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.6>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>The house is in worse shape than you remember. But you were very young when it burned down, and so memory doesn't count for much. The columns of the porch are all wrapped up in vines, entwined so closely that you can't quite tell where the house ends and the forest begins. The front door, cowering behind a pile of dead leaves, was turned halfway to ash by the flames. Its whole upper half is charred, pitch black, and you're pretty sure that it would crumble if you pushed on it. On the other hand, from this closer vantage point you can see that some of the windows have no glass left in them. They must have blown out in the fire. A large rock up against the right side of the house could serve as a convenient stepping stone for hoisting yourself through a window. You'd be less likely to damage the house going in that way, but you wouldn't be able to see into the room before landing—and you might get caught off guard by whatever lies inside. Which way will you enter? [[Take the front door.]] [[Climb in through the window.]]\ <</timed>>\

<<set $entry_point to "door">>You creep up the brittle steps of the stoop and onto the front porch. The wood creaks under foot, each squeal so loud it seems like the planks might be about to snap in half. The porch is mostly free of leaves, save for one big pile at the base of the front door. You can't imagine they were put there deliberately. It must be a trick of the wind in this part of the woods, blowing always toward the entrance to Grandma's house. As you get closer, you start to feel that same wind. A gentle breeze on the back of your neck, looping around your shoulders, pressing you forward into the house like a guiding hand on the small of your back. The top hinge of the door is missing, and what remains of the wood shudders ever so slightly as air slides through the cracks. [[Push in at the burnt part of the door.]] [[Try the doorknob.]]\ <<audio creak volume 0.6 play>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><<set $entry_point to "window">>That might be for the best. The front door is in pretty bad shape, and you're not sure you could open it without breaking something. You pad your way around the right side of the porch and onto a large rock that leans up against the house's outer wall, leaving in each footprint a small patch of grass laid flat against the earth. Pressing up to your tiptoes, you can just barely peek over the windowsill and into the dusty room that lies past the remains of the glass. From this angle, your $light_source is practically useless for getting any kind of view into the darkness beyond the window, but— As you strain your eyes, some kind of image starts to take shape. From the edges of your memory, the textures of a living room stretch themselves across the spaces in the dark. Half-remembered, half-imagined, a pattern built from the afterimages of countless afternoons spent drawing on the floor with your elbows digging into the rug and your feet in the air. But if you want to see more, [[you'll have to climb inside.]]<</timed>>

You push yourself up on tiptoes to reach the burnt part of the door, a jagged blot of ash spreading from the top right corner down to a few inches above the doorknob. The second your fingertips graze against the surface, it starts to crumble. It won't take much to make a hole big enough to hook your arm through. [[Push your hand through.]] [[Try the doorknob instead.|Try the doorknob.]]\ <<audio cicadas unloop fadeout>>\

The doorknob, an old brass thing with a flower carved into its face, gives an inch but stops before the bolt clicks into place. It's locked. Of course. [[Turn harder.]] [[Push in at the burnt part of the door.]]\ <<audio cicadas unloop fadeout>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You grab onto the doorknob <<next 1s>>with both hands <<next 1s>>and twist it as hard as you can.<<audio "cracking_snap" play volume 0.6>><<next 4s>> The bolt inside the door creaks as it strains against the force. <<next 5s>>Your palms chafe against the brass petals that fan out over the sides of the knob.<<next 5s>> One <<next 0.2s>>more <<next 0.2s>>good <<next 0.2s>>turn, <<next 1s>>and—<<next 3.5s>> Oh! <<next 2s>>It came off in your hands, leaving a dark stain of ash on your palm. <<next 4s>> Shining your light into the hole you just made out of Grandma's favorite doorknob, you see the bolt has managed to slide out of the catch in the doorframe. It should swing open, now, if you [[push carefully.|the door opens]]<</timed>>

Just inside the door is a narrow hallway, made even tighter by countless shelves and lamps and heavy stone pots pressed up against the walls. The beam of your $light_source catches the edge of a pot that might once have been filled with soil but is now filled with soot, and if you look closely you can see the brittle remains of vines drooping over the stone lip and onto the floor. Whether eaten up by the fire or withered away from lack of care, the plants that once sprang up from these pots to brush the ceiling have [[long since decayed.]]\ <<audio housescape volume 0.7 loop play>>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>The outer layer of the door falls apart almost immediately, <<next 2s>>but the inner layers resist your hand. <<next 4s>>This house may be falling apart, <<next 2s>>but it was built to weather storms. <<next 3s>><<audio "cracking_snap" play volume 0.6>>Still, <<next 2s>>you can feel it giving under your palm. <<next 4.5s>>Splintering, <<next 1.5s>>snapping, <<next 1.5s>>ready to give way.<<next 4.5s>> One <<next 0.2s>>good <<next 0.2s>>push, <<next 0.5s>>and—<<next 4s>> Oh! <<next 3s>> That was easier than you thought. Trouble is, of course, that your hand is flailing around inside the house while the rest of you is stuck outside. But if you stretch your spine a little further and get your elbow in, you just might be able to [[turn the doorknob from the other side.|the door opens]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>You can hardly remember how this house fits together. It seems too small now, shrunken to half its size, with corners that never meet quite where they should. Your image of the house isn't so much a blueprint as it is a hazy web of moments, stitched together from a handful of imperfect memories that you were never quite old enough to set in stone. Piecing together puzzles on the living room carpet, winning a game of hide-and-seek in Mom's childhood bedroom, or—this can't be right, can it?—potting a flower in an enormous room made entirely from glass. No, that one lingers. A pale moon suspended in the still-blue sky. Thick, heavy leaves bending down to brush your shoulders. The fading sun on your winter-weakened skin, unprepared for the coming heat of summer. [[A room made of glass, resplendent in the light.|room made of glass-door]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0>>\ <<audio resplendence_base loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer loop volume 0 play>>\ <<audio housescape fadeto 0.3>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>Six years old. A birthday in the woods. A few years back, just before the house burned down. Warm hands guiding yours around a mass of roots that you were certain would burst apart in your grasp. "Be gentle," she said. "Be gentle." A sigh. Fresh soil running between your fingers. Dazzling light from a thousand glass panes pouring the last rays of sunlight into a place that would be holy even in the darkness. <<linkreplace "Six more words.">><<timed 0s t8n>>Six more words:<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 3s t8n>>We <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>need <<next 0.1s>>room <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>grow.<</timed>></span> <<timed 8s t8n>>[['"Grandma?"'|room to grow-window]]<</timed>>\<</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>Six years old. A birthday in the woods. A few years back, just before the house burned down. Warm hands guiding yours around a mass of roots that you were certain would burst apart in your grasp. "Be gentle," she said. "Be gentle." A sigh. Fresh soil running between your fingers. Dazzling light from a thousand glass panes pouring the last rays of sunlight into a place that would be holy even in the darkness. <<linkreplace "Six more words.">><<timed 0s t8n>>Six more words:<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 3s t8n>>We <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>need <<next 0.1s>>room <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>grow.<</timed>></span> <<timed 8s t8n>>[['"Grandma?"'|room to grow-door]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer fadeto 0.5>>\

"Grandma?" The sound of your voice hangs in the air, suspended in the beam of your $light_source amidst countless specks of dust. It lingers for a moment, swells, fills up the room, then vanishes—swept on into the bowels of the house by a sudden gust from the window. She was there, if only for a moment. You're sure of it. A voice caught somewhere in the whistle of the wind. All around you, all at once, then gone. And bit by bit, you come to notice the absence of pain in your hand. And in its place, something unfamiliar. A tickling against your fingers, [[small tremors running down the lines of your palm.]]\ <<audio grandma play>>\ <<audio housescape fadeto 0.7>>\ <<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio resplendence_base unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer unloop fadeout>>\

"Grandma?" The sound of your voice hangs in the air, suspended in the beam of your $light_source amidst countless specks of dust. It lingers for a moment, swells, fills up the room, then vanishes—swept on into the bowels of the house by a sudden gust from the door behind you. The stiff fibers of a long carpet dig into the bare skin of your knees. You don't recall falling, but here you are: <<if $light_source eq "flashlight">>left palm wrapped around the grip of your flashlight, right hand closed into a loose fist and pressed against the floor.<<else>>left palm pressed against the floor, right hand closed into a loose fist dangling at your side.<</if>> All ahead, the house waits. [[And all at once, something starts to tickle the inside of your palm.]]\ <<audio grandma play>>\ <<audio housescape fadeto 0.7>>\ <<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio resplendence_base unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer unloop fadeout>>\

You lost time. Not much. A few seconds, a minute, maybe, submerged in a memory. Do you remember the tears that now leave your cheeks damp against the hot air? Do you remember closing your hand into a fist? Do you remember catching something in your palm? There it is. Unmistakeable. The feeling of something moving against your fingers. Small tremors running down the lines of your hand. [[Tighten your fist.]] [[Open your palm to look inside.]]\ <<audio firefly_fear_sbase volume 0 fadeto 0.4 loop>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sawbase volume 0 loop play>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_lightlayer volume 0 loop play>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_darklayer volume 0 loop play>>\

Your heart catches in your throat. Whatever is inside your palm, it feels wrong. You swore you'd never be afraid of the dark, but— It's so, so dark in here. Your loose fist, only barely shut, starts to tighten. Slowly, unsurely, the gaps between your fingers start to close, <<linkreplace "and then—">>and then—\ <<script>>flash_screen_long();<</script>>\ <<timed 0s t8n>>\ A flash. Light from inside your palm. A gentle tip-tap-tap, an afterimage of something bright against your skin. [[Keep tightening.]] [[Open your palm.|Open your palm to look inside.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_darklayer volume 0 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sbase fadeto 0>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sawbase fadeto 0.6>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: #FFC100;"></div>\

You raise your hand to your face, still closed, and squint. The skittering stops, and for a moment the only thing you feel is the persistent breath of the wind against the back of your neck. Then, very slowly, with all the care of a quiet prayer, you straighten your fingers one by one. [[And there, in the center of your palm, sits a firefly.]]\ <<audio firefly_fear_lightlayer fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You raise your fist to your face, and in one quick motion tighten in the rest of the way.<<next 6s>> A moment passes. <<next 3s>> Two moments pass. <<next 3s>> Three moments pass. <<next 3s>>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("glow").style.opacity="0.1"; <</script>><<audio firefly_sparkles volume 0.7 play>>\ And all at once, the cracks in your fingers start to glow. <<next 4s>>Softly at first, <<next 1.5s>>then brighter, <<script>> document.getElementById("glow").style.opacity="0.2"; <</script>><<next 1.5s>>a warm yellow light, <<next 1.5s>>until it fills up the whole room and casts into the neighboring doorways. <<next 5s>><<script>> document.getElementById("glow").style.opacity="0.4"; <</script>>But it keeps going, <<next 1.5s>>brighter still, <<next 1.5s>>until your eyelids press themselves together to shut out the light.<<next 5s>><<script>> document.getElementById("glow").style.opacity="0"; <</script>> In an instant, the light is gone. The doorway to the living room is once again shrouded in darkness, your $light_source once again catches the dust in the air, and when you open your eyes your hand is open again. [[And there, in the center of your palm, sits a firefly.]]<</timed>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_BAD volume 0.5 play>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_darklayer unloop stop>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sawbase unloop stop>>\ <div id="glow" style="background-color: #FFC100;"></div>\

<<timed 0.5s t8n>>\ <span class="image" id="hand_lightning">[img[images/hand_lightning.jpg]]</span> <<next 2s>>\ It does not move, and for a while you sit and stare, transfixed by its irregular glows. It does not seem bothered by the breeze. It flashes once, twice, a third time, and on that third flash you finally notice the absence of soot on your palm. When you pulled your hand away from the front door, it was all covered in the charred leftovers of the fire. Ashes on ashes, smeared against your palm and caked into the spaces between your fingers. But here it is, clean as it was when you first crawled out your bedroom window, the only remaining sign of your entry a thin ring of soot that wraps around your wrist and fades up along your forearm. In place of all that ruin, [[a light to cradle in your palm.]]\<</timed>> <<audio firefly_sting volume 0.4 play>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sbase unloop stop>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_sawbase unloop stop>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_lightlayer unloop stop>>\ <<audio firefly_fear_darklayer unloop stop>>\

After a few moments of stillness, the light flashes once again and lifts into the air. Its wings do not appear to move, and whether this is a trick of the light or some real miracle of nature, the creature before you seems not to fly so much as to drift about in the breeze, bobbing and sinking with the whims of the wind. It alights, for the span of a single breath, on the glass door at the base of the staircase, then rises again to loop a lazy circle around the handle of that same door. A winding, perilous pattern with no clear beginning or end. [[Try to open the door.]] [[Wait.]]

A few shards of glass still line the bottom of the sill from when the window blew out in the fire. Their jagged edges glint in the beam of your $light_source. You'll have to be very careful. [[Throw your bag in ahead of you.]] [[Hold the bag while you climb in.]] [[Go back and take the front door instead.]]\ <<audio cicadas unloop fadeout>>\

<<set $bag_throw to "yes">><<timed 0s t8n>>Good call. This climb is tricky enough already, and carrying a heavy bag along would be a nightmare. You can't be sure what the bag might hit when it lands, but that's still better than running the risk of <<linkreplace "tearing it open on a piece of glass.">>tearing it open on a piece of glass. <<timed 0s t8n>>You swing the bag off your shoulder and into your hands. It's heavy, but you think you can manage it. The weight spreads from your palms into your shoulders as you lift the whole tangled mass of cloth over your head and point your elbows to the sky. Then comes the release, a sudden lightness, as you heave the bag into the air and <<linkreplace "watch it sail away.">>watch it sail away. <<timed 0s t8n>>Up over the last shards of window glass, <<next 2s>>through the open frame, <<next 1.5s>>and into the—<<next 0.5s>><<audio shatter play>><<next 0.6s>><<audio TRKOS_loop volume 0>> <<next 3s>>Oh. <<next 2.5s>><<linkreplace "That can't be good.">>That can't be good.<<timed 0s t8n>><<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.5>> That was the sound of something breaking, falling, crashing to the floor. Who knows which of Grandma's favorite things you just destroyed? You don't have much of a choice now. <<if $has_mister_bones eq "yes">>Mister Bones<<else>>All your adventuring gear<</if>> is on the other side of that wall and you're still here. It's time to [[clamber in.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.5>>\

<<set $bag_throw to "no">>Good call. Without a way to see past the window, there's no telling what you might hit if you threw the bag in ahead of you. Better to keep it close, even if that makes the climb trickier. If you hike the strap up onto your shoulder, you can mostly get both of your hands free. It'll be a bit harder to move your right arm, but you're pretty sure you can [[make the climb.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You'll have to be careful, but you think you can avoid the glass sticking out of the windowsill. <<next 3.5s>>You hook one elbow over the edge, <<next 1.5s>>find a good clear spot to stick your other hand, <<next 1s>>and jump. <<next 2.5s>>With a few good kicks against the side of the house, <<next 1.5s>>you manage to get one foot up, <<next 1.5s>>then the other,<<next 1s>> and then—<<next 1s>><<audio glass_shatter volume 0.9 play>><<audio TRKOS_loop volume 0>><<script>>flash_screen_long();<</script>><<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.8>><<next 0.7s>><<audio glass_music volume 0.6 play>><<next 1.5s>> <<next 2.4s>>Oh no. <<next 1.5s>>Oh no. <<next 1.5s>>Oh no.<<next 4s>><<audio cicadas unloop fadeout>><<audio housescape volume 0.7 loop play>> Your right palm is splayed against the floor to catch your fall, and in this moment it feels like lightning. You don't think the carpet should be this red.<<next 9s>><<audio crunch volume 0.4 play>> Lifting your hand off the ground you can hear the sickening <i>crunch</i> of broken glass shifting on the floor below. The lamp. Of course. Grandma's reading light, toppled to the ground by your bag, with a giant bulb that has lodged one of its many jagged pieces [[right in the center of your palm.]]<</timed>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: #8A0006 "></div>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.2>>

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="hand_glass">[img[images/hand_glass.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> It's hard to look at. The blood blurs as your eyes shudder and sickness swells in your stomach. You've got to [[look away.]]\ <<audio "glitch" volume 0.6 play>>\ <</timed>>\

As your vision whips in and out of focus, the room starts to take shape around you, always with that horrible piece of glass jutting out somewhere the foreground. Your $light_source reveals only narrow patches of color, all shapes and edges that come together at surprising angles. The base of a lamp now turned on its side, the twisted wooden leg of an old couch, the outline of a patterned rug with a bright pink splotch in its center that memory tells you used to be some kind of flower. All the while, your hand is throbbing. But beyond the dizziness, beyond the sickness clouding your mind, [[something doesn't feel right.]]\ <<audio housescape volume 0.7 loop play>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>You can hardly remember how this house fits together. It seems too small now, shrunken to half its size, with corners that never meet quite where they should. Your image of the house isn't so much a blueprint as it is a hazy web of moments, stitched together from a handful of imperfect memories that you were never quite old enough to set in stone. Piecing together puzzles on the living room carpet, winning a game of hide-and-seek in Mom's childhood bedroom, or—this can't be right, can it?—potting a flower in an enormous room made entirely from glass. No, that one lingers. A pale moon suspended in the still-blue sky. Thick, heavy leaves bending down to brush your shoulders. The fading sun on your winter-weakened skin, unprepared for the coming heat of summer. [[A room made of glass, resplendent in the light.|room made of glass-window]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0>>\ <<audio resplendence_base loop volume 0 fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer loop volume 0 play>>\ <<audio housescape fadeto 0.3>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0.5s t8n>>\ <span class="image" id="hand_lightning">[img[images/hand_lightning.jpg]]</span> <<next 2s>> There, at the center of a hand that only moments ago spilled blood onto the floor, sits a firefly. No blood. No glass. No movement save for the occasional irregular glow that seems, at its peak, brighter than your $light_source ever could be. <<if $bag_throw eq "yes">>The glass from the lamp still sprawls across the floor behind you, but every trace of blood has vanished from the carpet. And though you can't quite be sure, the flower at its center seems less faded than before.<<else>>The gash in your palm seems to have disappeared completely, along with every trace of blood in the carpet. What's more, the other hand—still clutching the bag at your side—can't find any trace of the tear that sliced the cloth open mere seconds before. <<if $has_mister_bones eq "yes">>Mister Bones is safe again.<</if>><</if>> You might think you had imagined the whole ordeal if not for the memory of all that pain still suspended in the tension of your fingers. In place of that ugliness, some small gift: [[a light to cradle in your palm.|a light to cradle in your palm.-window]]\<</timed>> <<audio "firefly_sting" volume 0.4 play>>\

With some care, you think you can manage to avoid the glass sticking out of the windowsill. You hook one elbow over the edge, find a good clear spot to stick your other hand, and jump. With a few good kicks against the side of the house, you manage to get one foot up, over, and into the room beyond the window. It's not the most comfortable position, but you're most of the way there. With one last swing, you should be able to [[roll right in.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.2>>\

<<timed 2s t8n>>Oh no. <<next 1.5s>>Oh no. <<next 1.5s>>Oh no. <<next 3s>> Okay, don't panic. It's alright. Your bag just caught on some of the window glass, but if you give it <<linkreplace "a good tug...">>a good tug— <<timed 0s t8n>><<script>>flash_screen_long();<</script>><<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.8>><<audio housescape volume 0.7 loop play>><<audio glass_music volume 0.6 play>><<audio TRKOS_loop volume 0>>It all happens too fast to take in. <<next 4s>>The feel of the cloth caught in the glass, <<next 2s>>a rising panic in your throat, <<next 2s>>a harder pull against the strap of the bag, <<next 2s>>and then—<<next 2s>><<audio cloth_tear_2 play>><<audio cicadas unloop fadeout>> The sound of cloth shrieking as a gash rips its way through the side of the bag and you fall flat against the floor. It's a bad tear, and the whole kit could fall apart if you lift your hands away. One stray bump and <<if $has_mister_bones eq "yes">>Mister Bones<<else>>all your adventuring gear<</if>> might come [[tumbling out onto the floor.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ <<audio cloth_tear_1 volume 0.7 play>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: #8A0006 "></div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="hand_cut">[img[images/hand_cut.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> It's hard to look at. An even cut, sliced clean through the heel of your palm from some stray shard of glass that caught you in your struggle to liberate your gear from the window. The blood blurs as your eyes shudder and sickness swells in your stomach. You've got to [[look away.|look away-carry]]\ <<script>>flash_screen_long();<</script>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: #8A0006"></div>\ <<audio "glitch" volume 0.6 play>>\ <</timed>>\

As your vision whips in and out of focus, the room starts to take shape around you, always with the copper stain of blood marking its place somewhere the foreground. Your $light_source reveals only narrow patches of color, all shapes and edges that come together at surprising angles. The base of a lamp now turned on its side, the twisted wooden leg of an old couch, the outline of a patterned rug with a bright pink splotch in its center that memory tells you used to be some kind of flower. All the while, your hand is throbbing. But beyond the dizziness, beyond the sickness clouding your mind, [[something doesn't feel right.]]

After a few moments of stillness, the light flashes once again and lifts into the air. Its wings do not appear to move, and whether this is a trick of the light or some real miracle of nature, the creature before you seems not to fly so much as to drift about in the breeze, bobbing and sinking with the whims of the wind. It pauses in the air for the span of a single breath, then yields to the draft from the window and sails on through [[the gaping doorframe at the opposite end of the room.]]\

<<set $tried_glass_door to "yes">>Locked. Of course. And the glare of your $light_source makes it impossible to see through the glass—which remains miraculously intact in spite of the fire—so you can't even tell what this firefly seems so eager to show you. It pulls back up into the air—frustrated? confused?—then yields to the draft from the door and sails on past the staircase into the hallway beyond. There's not much to do but [[follow along.]]\ <<audio locked_door play>>\

Here's the thing: it's too late in the year for fireflies. Even on such a hot night. And this <i>thing</i>, whatever it is, is just a little bit frightening. In spite of all your efforts to be brave. It pulls back up into the air—frustrated? confused?—then yields to the draft from the door and sails on past the staircase into the hallway beyond. You'll be sure to keep your distance, but there's not much to do but [[follow along.]]

On it goes, then, and so too the sounds of song that still ripple through the air. There are no birds tonight, no owls calling out from the treetops to fill the dark with lamentations. In their place: the rustle of the wind against peeling wallpaper, the creaking of rotted floorboards that shift against the soles of your feet, and a voice like dry bark breathing its tune through the few scattered leaves that have yet to fall to the earth. <span style="padding-left: 12em">"It's been a long time coming.</span> <span style="padding-left: 15em">Oh, Lord, I've been waiting on the rain..."</span> You might be the only living thing in these woods tonight save for the trees, the grass, and the fluttering light that leads you past the wilted stalks of faded flowers, cuts left through a wide room that can now only barely be recognized as a kitchen, and stops again to rest against a slatted door that connects the kitchen to— <span style="margin-left: 6em;">well, somewhere. [[It's so hard to recall.]]</span>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop time 330 loop fadeto 0.6>>\ <<audio housescape loop fadeto 0.7>>\ <<audio wind_2 loop fadeto 0.5>>\ <<audio cicadas loop play volume 0 fadeto 0.3>>\ <div class="light_overlay"></div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="foyer">[img[images/foyer.jpg]]</span> The occasional light in the air guides you into a narrow hallway, made even narrower by an array of withered plants and an imposing wooden staircase that trails off up onto an unseen landing. Here's the thing: it's too late in the year for fireflies. Even on such a hot night. But this thing in the air before you is real, and bright, and it hardly lingers in this strange room before the wind whisks it away past the stairs and into a doorway off at the end of the hall. There's not much to do but [[follow along.]]<</timed>>

Behind you, the kitchen is a sorry sight. Straight down the middle runs a narrow wooden counter, cluttered all over with empty clay planters. Out from beyond that mess peeks a rusty sink that—supposing the pipes didn't burst from the heat of the flames—might still draw water from the old well dug deep beneath the foundation of the house. To the side of the slatted door is a wide, polished table covered all over with [[puzzle books.]] Against the wood of the door, your new friend is still waiting. [[It'll only take one push.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.4>>\

The door has no handle, just a straight seam down the middle that divides it into two wooden panels that turn freely on their hinges. They give easily under the weight of your hands, swinging wide open to reveal— Oh. <i>Oh.</i> Of course. [[The room made of glass.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><div style="padding-right: 10%">Your fingers graze the edge of the nearest book—<i>Word Searches for Sunday Afternoons</i>—and it crumbles immediately under your touch. It's the same with all the others. Crosswords, logic problems, trivia, all a touch away from flaking into a thousand unrecognizable pieces.</div> \ <div style="padding-left: 10%">This table is familiar, you think. She had very small pencils, like the ones at the library. A whole stack, piled up in the center of an uneven circle of books so none could roll away or escape to the floor.</div> \ <div style="padding-left: 5%">No erasers.</div> \ <div style="padding-left: 20%">She grinned once, ear-to-ear, and told you that she never made mistakes. Mom had lost patience for most of Grandma's jokes, but she still liked that one.</div> \ <div style="padding-left: 8%; padding-right: 20%">Against the door, the light starts blinking again. Brighter, longer than before. Slow, but persistent. [[You had better see what it wants.|It'll only take one push.]]</div><</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="plant_room">[img[images/plant_room_empty.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> It must be. The shape is right, even though the details are wrong. What in your memory had become a dazzling crystal wall is, in reality, a wide bay window looking out on the front porch. To the left, in the far corner, you can make out the faint outline of <<if $entry_point eq "door">>the<<else>>a<</if>> glass-paneled door that leads back to the hallway you passed through before. In the ceiling, a row of three skylights completes the sensation of being surrounded by glass. They must have caught the light just so to sparkle in the sunset. One detail remains, though, unsullied by the imperfections of memory. [[The room is filled to the brim with plants.]]\ <<audio resplendence_base loop volume 0 fadeto 0.4>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer loop volume 0 play>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="plant_room">[img[images/plant_room.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> <span id="plant_room_text">It seems almost unimaginable, like the room before you belongs to an entirely different house than the one you left behind. Where the rest of the plants in the house have all withered up from lack of care, the blown-out skylights in this room must let in just enough rain for this strange garden to thrive. Had she planned this? Windows in the ceiling, destined to shatter in the blaze, built so that the sprites might still tend to her flowers long after her hands could no longer lift the watering can from its perch on the sill? Of course, the seeds of these plants must have sprouted after Grandma had already passed on. <<link "There's no way they could have survived the fire.">><<replace "#plant_room_text">><<timed 0.5s t8n>>To witness all the life springing from the seams of this room, you might forget what an exceptionally hot summer it was. The speckled red flowers that creep along the windowsill might, in time, come in your mind to replace the images of the empty flowerpots on your own patio, of the pale, dry petals that have turned almost translucent in the sun. You might be forgiven if, just for a moment, you were to forget that this town has gone a long, long time without rain. But even here, it's hard to forget for too long. The wide green fronds that carpet the floor show, on a closer look, the telltale signs of wilting. Leaves of grass droop at their ends, and a quick brush of your fingertips against the soil of any of the pots in this room leaves a sensation as unpleasant as it is ominous: [[bone dry.]]\<</timed>><</replace>><</link>>\ </span>\ <<audio resplendence_layer fadeto 0.3>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="wilted_flower"><img src="images/wilted.jpg" /></span><<next 0s>> Among all these fading souls, one sticks out. Sicker, somehow, than the rest. A spindly thing, tall and narrow, with a thick green stalk that dissolves out on all sides into scattered clumps of deep purple flowers. It must have been something extraordinary when stretched to its full height, but the lack of rain has bowed its proud head nearly to the floor. You might not have noticed it, nestled as it is in the overgrowth, if not for the fact that [[one of its leaves is glowing with a fierce yellow light.]]\ <</timed>>\ <<audio resplendence_base unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio resplendence_layer unloop fadeout>>\

While you were taking in the room, it seems, the wind carried your new friend straight to that weeping mass of flowers. The pulses of light grow brighter, quicker, somehow more insistent, lighting nearly the whole room with a glow that sparks from the underside of one of the leaves. <<linkreplace "A pulse, as you approach.">>A pulse, as you approach.<<script>>flash_screen_short();<</script>><<timed 3s t8n>> <<linkreplace '<span style="padding-left: 10%">Another, and a further step.</span>'>><span style="padding-left: 10%">Another, and a further step.</span><<script>>flash_screen_short();<</script>><<timed 3s t8n>> <<linkreplace '<span style="padding-left: 25%">One more</span>'>><span style="padding-left: 25%">One more, and then—</span><<script>>flash_screen_short();<</script>><<timed 3s t8n>> <span style="padding-left: 45%">[[gone.]]</span><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: #FFC100; opacity: 0.6;"></div>\

The leaf is bare, and dig as you might with your hands, there is no light to be found. Gone as quickly as it appeared, having fulfilled whatever strange purpose it came to pursue. Here we are, then, I suppose. Alone again, in a room made of glass, hands knotted up in [[the leaves of a dying plant.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop time 30 fadeto 0.3>>\

Well, it must have brought you here for a reason. You may as well see what you can do about this plant. [["Shine your " + $light_source + " onto the leaves."|shine onto leaves]] [[Look around for a watering can.]] [[Spit into the soil.]] <<set $spit_count to 0>>\

<<set $tried_light to "yes">>It's a good thought, but your $light_source doesn't seem to help at all. This room has gotten plenty of sun—the problem is water. [[Look around for a watering can.]] <<if $spit_count eq 0>>[[Spit into the soil.]]<<elseif $spit_count eq 1>>[[Spit again.]]<<elseif spit_count is 2>>[[Keep spitting.]]<</if>>

The watering can that Grandma kept on the sill was, unfortunately, disfigured in the fire. Even if the sink still draws water, you can't quite figure out where it should go. There's got to be another way. [[Carry water in your hands.]] [[Look around for another container.]] <<if $spit_count eq 0>>[[Spit into the soil.]]<<elseif $spit_count eq 1>>[[Spit again.]]<<elseif $spit_count is 2>>[[Keep spitting.]]<</if>>

<<set $spit_count to $spit_count+1>>Oh, hey now, what are you doing? That's—that's just— Look, whatever you were trying, it didn't work. The soil's a little wetter now, but not enough to save the plant. Grandma probably wouldn't be happy with you spitting in her house. <<if $tried_light != "yes">>[["Shine your " + $light_source + " onto the leaves."|shine onto leaves]] <</if>>[[Look around for a watering can.]] [[Spit again.]]

<<set $spit_count to $spit_count+1>>Okay, now look, I get what you're trying to do, but there is just no way this is going to work. It's very thoughtful of you to try to water the plant like this, but you simply don't have enough saliva to make up for nearly two months of drought. <<if $tried_light != "yes">>[[Shine your $light_source onto the leaves.|shine onto leaves]] <</if>>[[Look around for a watering can.]] [[Keep spitting.]]

<<timed 0s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.5s>>come on, <<next 0.5s>>now you're just being—<<next 3s>> <span style="padding-left: 35%">[[oh my god.|a telltale blooming]]</span><</timed>>\ <<audio sink_running volume 0 loop play>>\

<<set $sink_on to "yes">>Back to the kitchen, then, to plead with the pipes in the hopes that the well hasn't yet run dry. Past the table of puzzle books, around the sharp corner of the counter, and into the nook in the wall that houses an old sink, its spigot tarnished by rust and flame. [[The knobs still turn.]]

<<set $sink_on to "yes">>Scouring the room, you find an old clay pot with no drainage hole that doesn't seem to have anything growing in it. Surely Grandma won't mind if you pour out the dirt inside and [[use it to carry water.]]

<<timed 0s t8n>>The pipes sputter, rattle, hang, halt, clank in the walls, shocked by your request. <span style="padding-left: 5em">Water? Again, after all these years?</span><<next 4.5s>><<audio sink_running loop play>> But it comes, somehow, a drip giving way to a steady stream that turns from green to gray to crystal clear, roaring through the layers of soot that had clogged the bottom of the basin. You can carry a bit with you if you [[cup your hands just right.]]\<</timed>> <<audio sink_clank volume 0.9 play>>\

The first trip is slow, unsteady, careful not to let a drop spill over the edge of your hands even as you feel a precious stream start to slip through the seam where the sides of your palms meet. You can hear the sound of the sink, still running, grow more distant as you pass through the door and wade into the thicket. Hands raised high, arms outstretched to reach into the space above the soil, and then—[[palms open.]]\ <<audio sink_running fadeto 0.5>>\

The little bit of water you've managed to drag along crashes into the pot with a splash and is absorbed almost immediately into the dirt. Nothing. No signs of change. [[Maybe a little more water?]]

The second trip is faster than the first. More confident, now, the feeling that comes with practice as you discover exactly how to press your palms together without spilling a single drop on the floor. A dodge around the counter, a few quick steps through the doors, a louder splash than last time as a whole pocket of water disappears into the dirt, and then— <span style="padding-left: 40%">[[Ah.|a telltale blooming]]</span>\ <<audio sink_running volume 0.8 fadeto 0.5>>\

<div id="blooming_flower">\ <img src="images/blooming_1.jpg" id="blooming_1" />\ <img src="images/blooming_2.jpg" id="blooming_2" />\ <img src="images/blooming_3.jpg" id="blooming_3" />\ <img src="images/blooming_4.jpg" id="blooming_4" /></div> <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.1>>\ <<timed 3s t8n>>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("blooming_1").style.opacity="1"; <</script>><<next 0.5s>><<audio blooming volume 0.8 play>>\ <<next 3s>>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("blooming_2").style.opacity="1";<</script>>\ <<next 3.4s>>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("blooming_3").style.opacity="1"; <</script>>\ <<next 3.4s>>\ <<script>> document.getElementById("blooming_4").style.opacity="1"; <</script>>\ <<next 2s>><<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.5>>\ <span id="post_bloom_text">There it is. A telltale blooming. Invisible strings that loop around the stalk and pull taut into the air as the flowers regain their hue and puff out like balloons. You did it. Somehow. In the air like this, proud and alive, it <<link "fixes your gaze.">><<replace "#post_bloom_text">><<timed 0s t8n>>It doesn't take long before the breeze starts to catch the edges of the petals. <<next 3s>> And when that happens—<<next 2s>>finally—<<next 2s>>[[the voice comes back.]]<</timed>><</replace>><</link>></span>\ <</timed>>\ <div class="light_overlay"></div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>It's still so faint. <<next 2s>>Barely above a whisper. <<next 2.2s>>But fully audible now, <<next 1s>>for the first time, <<next 1s>>in spite of its frailty.<<next 3s>> She's—<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 9.6s t8n>>My, <<next 0.7s>>my, <<next 0.7s>>my. <<next 1.8s>>You've <<next 0.1s>>grown <<next 0.1s>>so <<next 0.1s>>tall.<</timed>></span> <<if $entry_point eq "door">><<timed 15.2s t8n>>[["It's been a long time."]]<<next 0.2s>> [["I broke the door."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)]]<</timed>><<else>><<timed 15.2s t8n>>[["It's been a long time."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)]]<</timed>><</if>>\

Back to the kitchen, then, to plead with the pipes in the hopes that the well hasn't yet run dry. Past the table of puzzle books, around the sharp corner of the counter, and into the nook in the wall that houses an old sink, its spigot tarnished by rust and flame. [[The knobs still turn.|knobs-pot]]

<<timed 0s t8n>>The pipes sputter, rattle, hang, halt, clank in the walls, shocked by your request. <span style="padding-left: 5em">Water? Again, after all these years?</span><<next 4.5s>><<audio sink_running loop play>> But it comes, somehow, a drip giving way to a steady stream that turns from green to gray to crystal clear, roaring through the layers of soot that had clogged the bottom of the basin. It only takes a few seconds to [[fill your pot to the brim.]]\<</timed>> <<audio sink_clank volume 0.9 play>>\

The trip is slow, unsteady, careful not to let a drop spill over the lip of the pot. You can hear the sound of the sink, still running, grow more distant as you pass through the door and wade into the thicket. Hand raised high, arm outstretched to reach into the space above the soil, and then the sound of a splash as all that water disappears into the dirt. <span style="padding-left: 40%">[[Ah.|a telltale blooming]]</span>\ <<audio sink_running fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>There is a long, long pause. This is difficult for her, you know. Spirits are not meant to speak like this.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 7s t8n>>This <<next 0.1s>>spell <<next 0.1s>>won't <<next 0.1s>>work <<next 0.1s>>twice. <<next 1.5s>>You <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>ready <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>that.<</timed>></span> <<timed 12s t8n>>[["Will I ever see you again?"]] <<next 0.2s>>[['"Can\'t you make it last longer?"'|"Will I ever see you again?"]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>There is a long, long pause. This is difficult for her, you know. Spirits are not meant to speak like this.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 7s t8n>>Yes. <<next 0.7s>>It <<next 0.1s>>has.<<next 4s>> It <<next 0.1s>>will <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>longer <<next 0.1s>>still. <<next 1s>>You <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>ready <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>that.<</timed>></span> <<timed 15.7s t8n>>[["I am."]] <<next 0.2s>>[['"I\'m not."'|"I am."]] <<next 0.2s>>[['"Can\'t you stay?"'|"I am."]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>A gust of wind sweeps through the room and sets the leaves rustling. In their sounds, you can almost make out the faint ring of laughter.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 5.5s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>broke <<next 0.1s>>a <<next 0.1s>>lot <<next 0.1s>>more <<next 0.1s>>than <<next 0.1s>>that <<next 0.1s>>door <<next 0.5s>>when <<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>gave <<next 0.1s>>this <<next 0.1s>>place <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods.<</timed>></span> <<timed 10s t8n>>[["Did you burn down the house?"]] <<next 0.2s>>[["It still feels like home."]] <<next 0.2s>>[[(Say nothing.)|gave to the woods-say nothing]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>There is a long, long pause. This is difficult for her, you know. Spirits are not meant to speak like this.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 7s t8n>>No.<<next 2.5s>> But <<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>didn't <<next 0.1s>>stop <<next 0.1s>>it, <<next 0.5s>>either.<</timed>></span> <<timed 13s t8n>>[['"Oh."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"I wish you had."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"Oh."]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>There is a long, long pause. This is difficult for her, you know. Spirits are not meant to speak like this.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 7s t8n>>This <<next 0.1s>>can <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>your <<next 0.1s>>home <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>as <<next 0.1s>>long <<next 0.1s>>as <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>need <<next 0.1s>>it.<<next 2.5s>> But <<next 0.1s>>it <<next 0.1s>>isn't <<next 0.1s>>mine <<next 0.1s>>anymore.<</timed>></span> <<timed 14s t8n>>[['"Oh."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"Why not?"'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"Oh."]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>There is a long, long pause. This is difficult for her, you know. Spirits are not meant to speak like this.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 6s t8n>>We <<next 0.1s>>don't <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>very <<next 0.1s>>long.<</timed>></span> <<timed 9s t8n>>[['"Oh."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"Can\'t you say?"'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"Oh."]]<</timed>>

<div style="padding-left: 5%l padding-right: 5%;">A distant rumble cracks through the heat. The clouds are holding each other close, preparing to disappear. It won't be long now.</div> \ <div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%;">For a moment, again, it is quiet. The breeze has stopped and the leaves are still. <span style="padding-left: 5em"></span>A <<linkreplace "peaceful moment">>peaceful moment <<timed 0s t8n>>stretches to a <<linkreplace "peaceful pause">>peaceful pause<<timed 0s t8n>>, to a <<linkreplace "peaceful minute">>peaceful minute, <<timed 0s t8n>>to—<<next 3s>> I'm sorry.<<next 1.5s>> <span style="padding-left: 5em"></span>It doesn't happen like that.<<next 3.5s>> <span style="padding-left: 10em"></span>It's quiet, yes, for a moment, but...<<next 2s>> <span style="padding-left: 7em"></span>I wish it were longer.<<next 3.5s>> <span style="padding-left: 12em"></span>Can't we just sit here? <<next 1.5s>>Together? <<next 1.5s>>Before—<<next 3.5s>> Listen, $name. This is the hardest part to tell. It's been so long, I thought it might be easier this time. But it never stops, does it? The gears keep turning and the dark is always somewhere just out of sight and [[we will always need something to heal us.]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>><</timed>><</linkreplace>></div>\ <<audio thunder_1 play>>\ <<audio wind_2 fadeto 0.8>>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0>>\ <<audio cicadas fadeto 0>>\

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%">You were so afraid of what she might say. Can you feel that now? Does it dry your mouth the way it did that night? Are your knees still weak? Have your hands already closed into those same shaking fists? <<linkreplace "Listen:">>Listen: <div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%"><<timed 2s t8n>>No. <<next 2.5s>>There is nothing to say. <<next 3s>>It will happen this time the same as it always does. <<next 3s>>[[And it never gets any easier.]]<</timed>></div><</linkreplace>></div>

<div style="padding-left: 15%"><<timed 0s t8n>>Cracking in the distance, louder now.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 7s t8n>><<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 1>>You <<next 0.1s>>were <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>such <<next 0.1s>>a <<next 0.1s>>good <<next 0.1s>>boy, <<next 1s>> $deadname.<</timed>></span> <<timed 15.5s t8n>>It is so, so dark tonight.<<next 4.5s>> I'm sorry.<<next 5s>> [["That's not my name anymore, Grandma."]]<<next 0.6s>> [[(Say nothing.)|post-deadname]]<</timed>>\ </div>\ <<audio thunder_2 play>>\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 1>>\

<div style="padding-left: 7%; padding-right: 7%;"><<timed 0s t8n>><<audio drip_1 play>><i>Drip.</i><<next 4s>> Something wet on your forearm. <<next 3s>>A single drop, <<next 1s>>through the skylight. <<next 3s>>The first signs of the coming downpour.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 15s t8n>>Some <<next 0.1s>>darkness <<next 0.1s>>has <<next 0.1s>>settled <<next 0.1s>>in <<next 0.1s>>your <<next 0.1s>>eyes, <<next 0.5s>>child. <<next 3s>>I <<next 0.1s>>can't <<next 0.1s>>see <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>anymore.<<next 5s>> Are <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>sti—<</timed>></span> <<timed 24.8s t8n>><<audio drip_1 play>><<audio TRKOS_loop unloop stop>><i>Drip.</i><<next 5s>> The petals of the purple flowers flutter again as one last whip of wind races through the room. Whatever magic was here has started to falter, pressed down by the weight of the few small drops of rain that have snuck through the clouds. <<linkreplace "This can't be it.">>This can't be it. <div style="padding-left: 10%"><<timed 0s t8n>><<linkreplace "Spells have rules.">>Spells have rules. <div style="padding-left: 20%"><<timed 0s t8n>>It isn't fair. <<next 2s>> [[You've come so far.]]<</timed>></div><</linkreplace>><</timed>></div><</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ </div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>A gust of wind sweeps through the room and sets the leaves rustling. In their sounds, you can almost make out a sigh.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 6.5s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>become <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods <<next 0.5s>>and <<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>will <<next 0.1s>>become <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods <<next 0.1s>>again.<<next 3s>> It <<next 0.1s>>was <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>meant <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>this <<next 0.1s>>way.<</timed>></span> <<timed 14s t8n>>[["Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"That doesn\'t answer my question."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"Oh."]]<</timed>>

<<timed 0s t8n>>A gust of wind sweeps through the room and sets the leaves rustling. In their sounds, you can almost make out a sigh.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 6.5s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>become <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods <<next 0.5s>>and <<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>will <<next 0.1s>>become <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods <<next 0.1s>>again.<<next 3s>> It <<next 0.1s>>was <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>meant <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>be <<next 0.1s>>this <<next 0.1s>>way.<</timed>></span> <<timed 14s t8n>>[["Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"That doesn\'t help."'|"Oh."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"Oh."]]<</timed>>

<div style="padding-left: 7%; padding-right: 7%;"><<timed 0s>><<audio drip_1 play>><i>Drip.</i><</timed>><<timed 4s t8n>> Something wet on your forearm. <<next 3s>>A single drop, <<next 1s>>through the skylight. <<next 3s>>The first signs of the coming downpour.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 15s t8n>>Oh.<<next 3s>> I <<next 0.1s>>don't un<<next 0.1s>>der<<next 0.1s>>sta—<</timed>></span> <<timed 18.4s t8n>><<audio drip_1 play>><<audio TRKOS_loop unloop stop>><i>Drip.</i><<next 5s>> The petals of the purple flowers flutter again as one last whip of wind races through the room. Whatever magic was here has started to falter, pressed down by the weight of the few small drops of rain that have snuck through the clouds. <<linkreplace "This can't be it.">>This can't be it. <div style="padding-left: 10%"><<timed 0s t8n>><<linkreplace "Spells have rules.">>Spells have rules. <div style="padding-left: 20%"><<timed 0s t8n>>It isn't fair. <<next 2s>> [[You've come so far.]]<</timed>></div><</linkreplace>><</timed>></div><</linkreplace>><</timed>>\ </div>\

In the thick air of this sagging house, a new sound joins the rustle of the leaves<<if $sink_on is "yes">> and the steady murmur of the kitchen sink<</if>>. A new instrument. A new song. Clear pitches, steady sounds, tapping out a percussive tune that resonates through the walls until the floorboards shudder. Something is different, though, this time. The singing you heard when you first climbed up out of the river was accompanied by the echo of some old guitar, but this— This sound isn't a trick of the wind. It sounds like a real instrument. And it sounds like [[it's coming from a higher floor.]]\ <<audio clock_song volume 0.3 loop play>>\ <<audio sink_running unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio thunderscape loop play>>\ <<audio cicadas fadeto 0.2>>\

On higher floors, further from the river, she might be able to linger a little longer. But the clouds are shifting already, and this moment won't last forever. <span style="padding-left: 5%; padding-right: 5%">What did you want from this?</span> <div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%">[[I wanted someone to love me.]] [[I wanted a family.]] [[I don't know.]]</div>\ <<audio thunderscape fadeto 0.4>>\

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%"><<timed 1s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.5s>>$name.<<next 2.5s>> I know.<<next 3s>> The chimes of her song still echo down the stairs. If you can just be brave for a little longer, you might have a chance to say it—whatever it is you want to say.<<next 3s>> [[Climb the stairs.]]<<next 0.6s>> [[Wait a little longer.]]<</timed>></div>

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%"><<timed 1s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.5s>>$name.<<next 2.5s>> You had to know it would be this hard.<<next 4s>> The chimes of her song still echo down the stairs. If you can just be brave for a little longer, you might have a chance to say it—whatever it is you want to say.<<next 3s>> [[Climb the stairs.]]<<next 0.6s>> [[Wait a little longer.]]<</timed>></div>

In the far, far distance, pale lights start to flicker through the clouds. <i>Heat lightning</i>, Dad calls it. Grandma used to call it <i>spitfire</i>. There's no use waiting. Each second spent here brings the rain closer in. The river will start to rise. It's time to [[brave the dark.|Brave the dark.]]

Of course. In the far, far distance, pale lights start to flicker through the clouds. <i>Heat lightning</i>, Dad calls it. Grandma used to call it <i>spitfire</i>. The tune is playing over, and over, and over. The same notes each time, a gentle current in the air. She must know. Maybe it's a lullaby, like the ones she used to sing on the nights she let you stay in the room in the attic. All love, and magic, and sounds like rain. Whenever you're ready, $name. <div class="title_div">\ [[Brave the dark.]]\ </div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>The glass door to the front hall opens without a hitch<<if $tried_glass_door is "yes">> from the inside<</if>>, and you stand once again at the base of the old wooden stairs that stretch off to some unseen floor. <span class="image" id="maw">[img[images/maw.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> The melody is louder now. [[And the stairs gape wide.]] <<audio clock_song fadeto 0.3>>\ <</timed>>\

<i>This is familiar</i>, you think, securing one hand to the rail and feeling each step creak beneath your feet. There is a room at the top of the steps, you're certain. And somewhere in that room is another set of stairs, winding about a pole, leading up to the cramped space in the attic. [[The details are lost to time.]]

When you lift your hand from the banister and pass through the open doorframe on the right side of the landing, those details come rushing back. Illuminated by your $light_source, Mom's old bedroom once again takes form. [[Somewhere in this room, a ghost is playing a tune.]]\ <<audio clock_song fadeto 0.5>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="moms_room">[img[images/moms_room.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> Mom's room always charmed you, filled as it was with excellent places to hide. The bed against the right wall is high enough above the ground to slip underneath, the closet to the left was always filled with boxes to scoot behind, and the wardrobe beside the closet was a good place to sneak away and get some reading done. In a pinch, the spiral stairs in the far right corner might even make a good place to tuck something away. And if all that wasn't enough to catch your eye, you'd certainly be enchanted by the room's most striking feature: [[a whole wall full of clocks.]]\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="clocks">[img[images/clocks.jpg]]</span><<next 0s>> Three evenly-spaced rows of clocks paper the wall on the far side of the room. They mark out the times of places and people—cities, landmarks, loved ones. Mom used to wind them by hand every week when she was little, and once she got too old to care, Grandma was more than happy to shoulder the burden. The hands of each and every clock have stopped at the same time. Most are missing glass. And though their gears have not turned since the first bolt of lightning struck this house four years ago, [[their bells have once again started to chime.]]\ <</timed>>\

<i>Ding. Ding ding-ding. Ding. Ding. Ding-ding-ding.</i> Cheap little bells with a sound like a toy instrument, pattering out that same old tune. Grandma always said you had to work with the tools you were given. This is your chance. What will you do? [[Say something.]] [[Listen for a little longer.]]

You don't have much time. The clouds haven't yet broken, but the slow drizzle escaping their underbellies is already starting to restore the river. The wizard is finding his words again. For now, though, the clocks still sound. One, two, three—a chorus of creaks and chimes. Then, all at once, the sound falters. In its place, through the cracks in the walls, comes the same old wind and the <<linkreplace "same old voice.">>same old voice.<<audio clock_song unloop fadeout>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 1s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>can't <<next 0.1s>>see <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>like <<next 0.1s>>this, <<next 0.8s>>you <<next 0.1s>>know.<<next 2s>> I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>my <<next 0.1s>>ears, <<next 0.8s>>tongue, <<next 0.8s>>hands, <<next 0.8s>>but <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>eyes<<next 0.5s>>.<<next 0.5s>>.<<next 0.5s>>.<<next 2s>> <span style="padding-left: 8em"></span>somewhere <<next 0.1s>>else. <<next 1.5s>>Taken <<next 0.5s>>by <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>trees.<</timed>></span> <<timed 16s t8n>>It's time, <<next 0.5s>>$name.<<next 2.5s>> [["I can't help it. I'm afraid of the dark."]]<<next 0.3s>> [["I don't want to hide anymore."]]<<next 0.6s>> [["I don't want to be a boy."]]<</timed>><</linkreplace>>

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.7s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love.<<next 2.2s>> The <<next 0.1s>>dark <<next 0.1s>>is <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>around.<<next 1.5s>> We <<next 0.1s>>are <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>hiding.<</timed>></span> <<timed 10.1s t8n>>[["How do we stop?"]]<<next 0.2s>> [["I don't want to hide from you."]]<</timed>>

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.7s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love.<<next 2.5s>> So <<next 0.1s>>am <<next 0.1s>> I.<</timed>></span> <<timed 8s t8n>>[["I wish you were still here."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"Why did you leave me?"'|"I wish you were still here."]]<</timed>>

<div style="padding-left: 5%; padding-right: 5%"><<timed 0s t8n>><<audio convo_pop volume 0.8 play>><<next 1.258s>>\ The wind stops. To your credit, $name, you really never were afraid of the dark. A creaking in the walls. The house sighs. <span style="padding-left: 12%">The sky is poised to crack.</span> <span style="padding-left: 5%">How long have you felt this way?<span> <span style="padding-left: 20%">[[This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 25%">[[A few years.|This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 30%">[[My whole life.|This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 35%">[[The question doesn't make sense.|This year.]]</span>\ <<audio housescape pause>>\ <<audio cicadas pause>>\ <<audio wind_2 pause>>\ <<audio thunderscape pause>>\ <</timed>></div>\

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>no <<next 0.1s>>answer <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>that, <<next 0.5s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love. <<next 2s>>The <<next 0.1s>>current <<next 0.1s>>pulls <<next 0.1s>>us <<next 0.1s>>all. <<next 2s>>We <<next 0.1s>>are <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>bound <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>some <<next 0.1s>>fearful <<next 0.1s>>shore.<</timed>></span> <<timed 10.3s t8n>>[["I miss you."]]<<next 0.3s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"I miss you."]]<</timed>>

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>Everything <<next 0.1s>>has <<next 0.1s>>a <<next 0.1s>>time. <<next 2s>>Even <<next 0.1s>>me.<<next 3.2s>> The <<next 0.1s>>current <<next 0.1s>>pulls <<next 0.1s>>us <<next 0.1s>>all. <<next 2s>>We <<next 0.1s>>are <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>bound <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>some <<next 0.1s>>fearful <<next 0.1s>>shore.<</timed>></span> <<timed 13.8s t8n>>[['"I don\'t understand."'|"I miss you."]]<<next 0.3s>> [["I miss you."]]<<next 0.3s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"I miss you."]]<</timed>>

A creaking in the walls. The house sighs. <span style="padding-left: 15%">The sky is poised to crack.</span> <span style="padding-left: 5%">This is your last chance.</span> <span style="padding-left: 20%">You came here for a reason, didn't you?</span> <div style="padding-left: 30%">[['"I don\'t want to be a boy."'|boy-2]] [[(Say nothing.)|last-chance]]</div>

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%"><<timed 0s t8n>><<audio convo_pop volume 0.8 play>><<next 1.258s>>\ The wind stops.<<audio housescape pause>><<audio cicadas pause>><<audio wind_2 pause>><<audio thunderscape pause>><<next 3.5s>> How long have you felt this way?<</timed>> <<timed 7s t8n>>[[This year.]]<<next 0.2s>> [[A few years.|This year.]]<<next 0.2s>> [[My whole life.|This year.]]<<next 0.2s>> [[The question doesn't make sense.|This year.]]\ <</timed>></div>\

Are you sure? You've been so afraid for so long. A secret plan. A summer without rain. A pact with $friend_name, a heavy bag, a clatter against asphalt. Skinned knees in the grass with a silhouette in the frame of the patio door. You came for an adventure, $name. The fear can't last much longer. [['"I don\'t want to be a boy."'|boy-2]] [[(Say nothing.)|last-nothing]]

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%">Even here, at the end of your adventure, the thing feels too dark to utter aloud. The wind shifts. She can sense your fear. How long have you felt this way? [[This year.]] [[A few years.|This year.]] [[My whole life.|This year.]] [[The question doesn't make sense.|This year.]]</div>

<div style="padding-left: 15%; padding-right: 15%">When did it start? <span style="padding-left: 10%">Or, better: does it ever start?</span> <span style="padding-left: 20%">Did you ever <i>want</i> to be a boy?</span> <div style="padding-left: 30%">[[No.|no-boy]] [[I don't know.|no-boy]]</div></div>\ <<audio clock_song_piano volume 0.4 loop play>>\

<div style="padding-left: 5%; padding-right: 5%"><<timed 0s t8n>>Dad wants you to play outside more. Mom gets anxious when you borrow her hair ties. This isn't how things are done in towns like these. Good families don't raise kids like you. But there was never a <i>moment</i>, really. How could there be? Maybe—maybe you heard the word on the news and learned, for the first time, that this was something you were allowed to be. Maybe you got told you ran like a girl one too many times and it finally clicked. Maybe you thought that wouldn't be such a bad thing. I don't know. That isn't my story to tell. I only know the details, $name. The softball bat that Dad pressed into your hands with just a little too much force. The bow, wrapped around its handle. A neat little ribbon tied around a painfully normal family. That's your story to tell, $name, some day, if you'd like. [[My story is about the river.]]<</timed>></div>

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%;"><<timed 0s t8n>>My story is about the day it all came to be too much. My story is about the girl who cried into her pillow and missed her grandmother and believed, really believed, that the old woman in the woods could fix everything, if only she were still around. My story is about an unusually brave girl who still believes in ghosts. And, in the end, my story is about how she was right to believe. [[My story is about the ghost who loves her.]]<</timed>></div>\ <<audio wind_2 play>>\

<<timed 2s t8n>>This is how that story ends.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 6s t8n>>My <<next 0.1s>>love,<<next 0.5s>> I—<</timed>></span> <<timed 9s t8n>>The voice trails off. <<next 2.6s>>The branches in the distance creak. <<next 2.5s>>A sound like weeping.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 18.8s t8n>>There <<next 0.1s>>is <<next 0.1s>>no <<next 0.1s>>world <<next 0.1s>>but <<next 0.1s>>this <<next 0.1s>>one. <<next 1.8s>>And <<next 0.1s>>there <<next 0.1s>>are <<next 0.1s>>no <<next 0.1s>>places <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>hide, <<next 0.5s>>not <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>long.<<next 3s>> I <<next 0.4s>>too <<next 0.4s>>have <<next 0.1s>>stared <<next 0.1s>>into <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>dark <<next 0.6s>>and <<next 0.1s>>wept. <<next 1.8s>>I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>held <<next 0.1s>>my <<next 0.1s>>head <<next 0.5s>>beneath <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>sweep <<next 0.1s>>of <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>river. <<next 1.8s>>I <<next 0.4s>>too <<next 0.4s>>have<<next 0.1s>> sputtered <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>air.<<next 3.5s>> I <<next 0.1s>>have <<next 0.1s>>nothing <<next 0.1s>>to <<next 0.1s>>offer <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>but <<next 0.1s>>this:<<next 2.3s>> A <<next 0.1s>>house <<next 0.1s>>in <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>woods. <<next 1.6s>>A <<next 0.1s>>song <<next 0.1s>>in <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>trees. <<next 1.6s>>A <<next 0.1s>>place <<next 0.1s>>that <<next 0.1s>>will <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>welcome <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>home.<</timed>></span> <<timed 48s t8n>>[["That isn't enough."]]<<next 0.3s>> [[(Say nothing.)|final-words]]<<next 0.6s>> [[(Cry.)|final-words]]<</timed>>\ <<audio housescape play>>\ <<audio thunderscape play>>\

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 1.5s t8n>>No. <<next 2s>>It <<next 0.1s>>isn't.<</timed>></span> <<timed 7s t8n>>The wind is changing all over town. <<next 3s>>Static crackles in the humid air. <<next 3s>>A new day is coming on.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 17.5s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>left <<next 0.1s>>something <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>you. <<next 2s>>I—<</timed>></span> <<timed 20.5s t8n>><<audio thunder_1 play>>A crack of thunder. <<next 3.5s>>The sprites are holding as hard as they can. <<next 3s>>She fades.<<audio clock_song_piano fadeto 0.2>><</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 31.5s t8n>>—<<next 0.1s>>long <<next 0.1s>>time <<next 0.1s>>ago<<next 0.1s>>—<<next 1s>> <span style="padding-left: 7em"></span>—<<next 0.1s>>up <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>stairs<<next 0.1s>>—<<next 1s>> <span style="padding-left: 15em"></span>—<<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>can't<<next 0.1s>>—<<audio clock_song_piano unloop fadeout>><</timed>></span> <<timed 37.5s t8n>><span style="padding-left: 40%">[[She's gone.]]</span><</timed>>\ <<audio cicadas play>>\

<<timed 2s t8n>>The wind is changing all over town. <<next 3s>>Static crackles in the humid air. <<next 3s>>A new day is coming on.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 11.5s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>left <<next 0.1s>>something <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>you. <<next 2s>>I—<</timed>></span> <<timed 14s t8n>><<audio thunder_1 play>>A crack of thunder. <<next 3.5s>>The sprites are holding as hard as they can. <<next 3s>>She fades.<<audio clock_song_piano fadeto 0.2>><</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 24s t8n>>—<<next 0.1s>>long <<next 0.1s>>time <<next 0.1s>>ago<<next 0.1s>>—<<next 1s>> <span style="padding-left: 7em"></span>—<<next 0.1s>>up <<next 0.1s>>the <<next 0.1s>>stairs<<next 0.1s>>—<<next 1s>> <span style="padding-left: 15em"></span>—<<next 0.1s>>I <<next 0.1s>>can't<<next 0.1s>>—<<audio clock_song_piano unloop fadeout>><</timed>></span> <<timed 31s t8n>><span style="padding-left: 40%">[[She's gone.]]</span><</timed>>\ <<audio cicadas play>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>For the first time since you <<if $entry_point is "door">>stepped through the door<<else>>climbed through the window<</if>>, the house is fully quiet. The bells are all stopped. There is no more song in the wind. You won a game of hide-and-seek in this bedroom, once. A long time ago. Limbs all entangled, folded into a box in the closet. People like you, $name—well, people like us—we are always learning new ways not to be seen. If you hurry, you might be able to catch one last glimpse of the sky. From the attic, where the roof has collapsed, through the hole [[where the rain comes in.]]<</timed>>\

The steps to the attic are made of iron. Twelve steps, each one a hammering sound. <span style="padding-left: 7%">I am almost ready to say goodbye to this story again.</span> <span style="padding-left: 14%">[[There is only one place to go from here.]]</span>

<<timed 0s t8n>><<audio metal_footsteps play>>One, <<next 1.6s>>two, <<next 1.7s>>three, <<next 1.6s>>four, <<next 1.8s>><<audio house_chime play>>five, <<next 1.7s>>six, <<next 1.7s>>seven, <<next 1.75s>>eight, <<next 1.55s>>nine, <<next 1.65s>>ten, <<next 1.6s>>eleven, <<next 1.7s>>twelve.<<next 1.5s>><<audio attic_whispers loop play volume 0 fadeto 0.4>> <span class="image" id="attic">[img[images/attic.jpg]]</span> A small wooden room in the spire. Bookshelves. Plants. A wide hole where the lightning crashed through the wall.<<next 0s>> The clouds are lit up inside, churning with fire all ready to break loose and strike the ground. A minute left, now. [[Maybe less.]]<</timed>>

There is a desk at the far end of the room, all surrounded in a circle of salt and untouched by fire. One last spell before she joined the trees. Her voice is gone, but the presence lingers in the form of a breeze. Through the crater in the wall, into the small of your back, pushing you [[past the line of salt on the floor.]]

There are only two things on the desk. A folded note on a piece of yellowed paper, unmoved by the wind, and— A sewing kit, its needle still sparkling with a bit of magic dust. The same color as the light in the clouds. [[It's time.]]

In the air outside, the clouds are readying to break. It will be a long, full rain, and the river will roar again, and the forest will thrum, and this unbearable summer will finally come to an end. But for the moment, in this room, in the darkness, it is quiet. The song has reached its end, and the spirits are back in the trees, and all that remains— <span style="margin-left: 20%">all that remains is [[the letter.]]</span>

<<timed 0s t8n>><span>Wait. I— <span style="padding-left:5em">This is the end. You know that, right?</span> It's my favorite part of the story. Once the clouds break, they let the light in. Glorious, isn't it? Let these be my last words: starlight and rain. Nothing else. Just starlight and rain. Thank you for bringing me back to this story. <span style="padding-left:3em">We could all use some healing.</span> The letter is on the table, whenever you're ready. <center>[[starlight and rain]]</center> </span><</timed>>

<span id="i_love_you_wrapper"><div id="i_love_you"><<timed 2s t8n>>I<<next 0.2s>> love<<next 0.2s>> you<<next 0.8s>>, $name.<</timed>></div></span>\ <<timed 5.6s t8n>><<replace "#i_love_you_wrapper">>\ <span class="grandma_letter"><div class="title_div"><<timed 0s t8n>>A note for someone that might need it, some day, when the clouds hang heavy in the sky and the dark is closing in all around. You have been so brave already, my love. [[It's only a little further now.]]<</timed>></div></span>\ <<audio attic_whispers unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio paper_folding play>>\ <<audio housescape unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio wind_2 unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio thunderscape unloop fadeout>>\ <</replace>><</timed>>\

<div style="padding-left: 5%; padding-right: 5%"><span class="grandma_letter"><span id="letter-1">\ <span id="letter-1-1" class="letter-paragraph">\ <<timed 7s t8n>>It was always going to end this way. <<next 3.5s>>With you and me, <<next 1.6s>>together, <<next 1.3s>>sharing this room across time <<next 2.3s>>with the distance of years standing between our souls. <<next 4.6s>>That rift <<next 0.6s>>may seem <<next 0.9s>>too much <<next 0.7s>>to bear. <<next 1.5s>>Even here, <<next 1.1s>>at the top of everything, <<next 1.8s>>with my words in your hands <<next 1.8s>>and whatever echo you can conjure <<next 2.2s>>of my voice in your ears, <<next 2.7s>>you might still feel alone.<</timed>></span> <span id="letter-1-2" class="letter-paragraph">\ <<timed 37s t8n>>But here's the thing you may not have known, <<next 2.1s>>child: <<next 2.1s>>the furthest distance <<next 1.3s>>between any two hearts <<next 1.8s>>is still <<next 1.1s>>only a moment's passage <<next 1.8s>>for the right kind of love. <<next 2.2s>>And so it was that the voices in the grass told me tales of your footsteps, <<next 5.1s>>fated to track their way along the river <<next 2.5s>>on some <<next 0.7s>>hot <<next 0.8s>>night <<next 1s>>long after my last breath has been lost to the wind.<</timed>></span> <span id="letter-1-3" class="letter-paragraph">\ <<timed 64.5s t8n>>You have always been different, <<next 1.7s>>my love. <<next 1.2s>>Destined for some burden <<next 2s>>too great for the weak limbs of this family tree to hold. <<next 4.3s>>I could see it in you from the moment you first opened your eyes, <<next 4.1s>>some strange magic <<next 1.7s>>too new <<next 0.9s>>and wonderful <<next 0.9s>>for my old hands to grasp. <<next 2.3s>>Whatever form this wonder takes when it bursts from your fingertips, <<next 3.7s>>it will not be easy.<</timed>></span> <span id="letter-1-4" class="letter-paragraph">\ <<timed 92.1s t8n>>One day, <<next 0.5s>>I fear, <<next 1.9s>>listening to the tongues of the grass, <<next 3s>>you may start to feel this family has no place for you. <<next 5.2s>>Your mother, <<next 1.3s>>spun from starlight though she is, <<next 2.4s>>lost her second sight a long time ago. <<next 4s>>And in the times you need her to see you most, <<next 2.6s>>her eyes will cloud over with visions of a simpler world.<</timed>></span> </span>\ /* First Rain */\ \ <<timed 120.5s>>\ <<script>>createSoftRain();<</script>>\ <<script>>$("#letter-1-1").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-1-2").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-1-3").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-1-4").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-1").remove();<</script>>\ <</timed>>\ \ /* Second Section */\ <span id="letter-2">\ <span id="letter-2-1" class="letter-paragraph"><<timed 126.5s t8n>>But know this: <<next 2s>>there is a soul to these woods <<next 2s>>that I will join when I pass on, <<next 2.6s>>and that soul will always have a place for you. <<next 4s>>The boughs may bend, <<next 2s>>but the roots are strong.<</timed>></span> <span id="letter-2-2" class="letter-paragraph"><<timed 142.3s t8n>>I <<next 0.2s>>have <<next 0.2s>>lived <<next 0.1s>>a <<next 0.2s>>long, <<next 0.9s>>long <<next 0.6s>>life, <<next 1.5s>>and in that time I have seen <<next 1.5s>>many, <<next 0.4s>>many <<next 0.5s>>things. <<next 1.5s>>I was in this town when the sprites flew away <<next 2.8s>>and left these hills without water <<next 2s>>for six years. <<next 2s>>I watched the last train roll along the tracks in the woods, <<next 4.4s>>watched the vines and the flowers of this forest <<next 2.9s>>comfort those lonely rails, <<next 2.4s>>wrapping them all over in a tender embrace. <<next 3.7s>>I watched countless years of children <<next 3.3s>>pluck the petals from those stems <<next 2.1s>>to breathe in deep their smells and witness, <<next 3.5s>>often for the first time, <<next 2.9s>>a love so great that it could leave no soul behind.<</timed>></span> <span id="letter-2-3" class="letter-paragraph"><<timed 189.6s t8n>>I have tamed demons, <<next 2.2s>>and sewn up sprites, <<next 1.8s>>and loved people <<next 1.4s>>who did not know how to love me in return.<</timed>></span></span>\ \ <<timed 199s>><<script>>createHeavyRain();<</script>>\ <<next 1.5s>><<script>>$("#letter-2-1").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1.5s>><<script>>$("#letter-2-2").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1.5s>><<script>>$("#letter-2-3").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-2").remove();<</script>>\ <</timed>>\ \ <span id="letter-3" class="letter-paragraph">\ <<timed 206.1s t8n>>This house is full of memories, <<next 2.9s>>each one another loop around the post that ties me here. <<next 4.7s>>With each year, <<next 1.1s>>the leash is reined in a little further. <<next 3.3s>>I can hardly stray from the stoop. <<next 3.5s>>It is time to move on, <<next 2.1s>>and my only regret is that I will not be there <<next 3s>>when that strange magic strikes you <<next 3.5s>>and you need someone to love you, <<next 2.7s>>and to hold you, <<next 1.3s>>and to tell you not to be afraid. <<next 3.2s>>I can only pray this letter will find you when you need it most. <<next 6.5s>>Then again, <<next 1.4s>>maybe you won't need me after all. <<next 2.7s>>At six years of age, <<next 1.9s>>you are already so brave. <<next 5s>>Can you smell it in the air? <<next 3.8s>>The clouds are breaking. <<next 2.4s>>Do not be afraid, <<next 1s>>my love. <<next 1.4s>>A new day will come. <<next 2.6s>>Oh, <<next 0.9s>>lord, <<next 1s>>grant me one last thing before I go. <<next 2.7s>>A rain <<next 1.5s>>and a fire <<next 0.7s>>to clear the air, <<next 1.3s>>that I might go into the dark unafraid. <<next 4.9s>>I can feel it already. <<next 2.6s>>Making the earth soft for me. <<next 3.7s>>I am ready to go. <<next 2.5s>>Up above the world, <<next 1.7s>>oh <<next 0.8s>>god, <<next 1.4s>>such <<next 0.5s>><span style="padding-left: 30%">sweet</span> <<next 1.2s>><span style="padding-left:39%">summer</span> <<next 0.7s>><span style="padding-left:50%">rain.</span> <</timed>></span></span></div>\ <<audio "outro_letter" play>>\ <<timed 297.5s t8n>>\ <<audio final_rain_loop loop volume 0 fadeto 1>>\ <<script>>lightning_flash(); $("#letter-3").css("opacity","0");<</script>>\ <<next 1s>><<script>>$("#letter-3").remove();<</script>>\ <div class="title_div">\ <div style="max-width: 35em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;">\ "I look at the soft earth when it rains and think again of how good it is to feel wanted. To know that there is always a place willing to hold you."</div>\ - Hanif Abdurraqib, <i>Ohio on the Night Biggie Died</i> [[Thank you for playing.]]</div> <</timed>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: white;"></div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>All at once, <<next 1s>>the chimes falter. <<next 3s>>In their place, <<next 1.2s>>through the cracks in the walls,<<next 1.8s>> comes the same old wind <<next 1.2s>>and the same old voice.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 13s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.7s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love.<<next 2.2s>> The <<next 0.1s>>dark <<next 0.1s>>is <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>around.<<next 1.5s>> We <<next 0.1s>>are <<next 0.1s>>always <<next 0.1s>>hiding.<</timed>></span> <<timed 21s t8n>>[["How do we stop?"]]<<next 0.3s>> [["I don't want to hide from you."]]<</timed>>\ <<audio clock_song unloop stop>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>All at once, <<next 1s>>the chimes falter. <<next 3s>>In their place, <<next 1.2s>>through the cracks in the walls,<<next 1.8s>> comes the same old wind <<next 1.2s>>and the same old voice.<</timed>> <span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 13s t8n>>Oh, <<next 0.7s>>my <<next 0.1s>>love.<<next 2.5s>> So <<next 0.1s>>am <<next 0.1s>> I.<</timed>></span> <<timed 19.8s t8n>>[["I wish you were still here."]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"Why did you leave me?"'|"I wish you were still here."]]<</timed>>\ <<audio clock_song unloop stop>>\

<div style="padding-left: 5%; padding-right: 5%"><<timed 0s t8n>><<audio convo_pop volume 0.8 play>><<next 1.258s>>\ All at once, the chimes falter. The wind stops. To your credit, $name, you really never were afraid of the dark. A creaking in the walls. The house sighs. <span style="padding-left: 12%">The sky is poised to crack.</span> <span style="padding-left: 5%">How long have you felt this way?<span> <span style="padding-left: 20%">[[This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 25%">[[A few years.|This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 30%">[[My whole life.|This year.]]</span> <span style="padding-left: 35%">[[The question doesn't make sense.|This year.]]</span>\ <<audio clock_song unloop stop>>\ <<audio housescape pause>>\ <<audio cicadas pause>>\ <<audio wind_2 pause>>\ <<audio thunderscape pause>>\ <</timed>></div>\

<span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>I <<next 0.1s>>know.<</timed>></span> <<timed 5s t8n>>[["I miss you."]]<<next 0.2s>> [[(Say nothing.)|"I miss you."]]<</timed>>

With your hands pressed tight into the cloth of the bag, it takes you a moment to notice the feeling creeping into your right palm. A slow ache, at first, building quickly into a shock of lightning scraping against the inside of your hand. [[And you don't think the bag is supposed to be this shade of red.]]

<<timed 0s t8n>>Click below to reveal a content warning for <i>Soft Earth</i>, though be warned that it contains (minor) spoilers. <<linkreplace "Content Warning">><b>Content Warning:</b> This story contains instances of gender non-conforming children being misunderstood and misgendered by their caregivers.<</linkreplace>> <i>Soft Earth</i> takes under an hour to play from start to finish. Music and sound are crucial to the experience, so please play with headphones if you are able. Click below to begin: <div class="title_div"> [[she refused to be afraid of the dark]] </div><</timed>>

<<set $entry_point to "door">>As much as you don't want to damage the front door, those shards of glass look like a recipe for disaster. You make your way back around to the front of the house, creeping up the brittle steps of the stoop and onto the porch. The wood creaks under foot, each squeal so loud it seems like the planks might be about to snap in half. You prop yourself up on tiptoes to avoid the sound. It doesn't help. The porch is mostly free of leaves, save for one big pile at the base of the front door. You can't imagine they were put there deliberately. It must be a trick of the wind in this part of the woods, blowing always toward the entrance to Grandma's house. As you get closer, you start to feel that same wind. A gentle breeze on the back of your neck, looping around your shoulders, pressing you forward into the house like a guiding hand on the small of your back. The top hinge of the door is missing, and what remains of the wood shudders ever so slightly as air slides through the cracks. [[Push in at the burnt part of the door.]] [[Try the doorknob.]]

<div style="padding-left: 10%; padding-right: 10%"><span class="grandma_speech"><<timed 2s t8n>>The <<next 0.1s>>rain <<next 0.1s>>won't <<next 0.1s>>hold <<next 0.1s>>much <<next 0.1s>>longer. <<next 3s>> Did <<next 0.1s>>you <<next 0.1s>>come <<next 0.1s>>all <<next 0.1s>>this <<next 0.1s>>way <<next 0.1s>>just <<next 0.1s>>for <<next 0.1s>>me?<</timed>></span> <<timed 9.5s t8n>>[['"Yes."'|good boy]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"I needed you."'|good boy]]<<next 0.2s>> [['"I have to tell you something."'|good boy]]<</timed>>\ </div> <<audio TRKOS_loop time 143 fadeto 0.9>>\

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<<cacheaudio "credits_song" "sounds/credits_song.ogg" "sounds/credits_song.mp3">>

<<audio "father_hum_extra" volume 0 fadeto 0.2 loop>>\ <<timed 1s t8n>>\ Standing on the porch, <<next 1.5s>>squinting into the darkness, <<next 1.5s>>an unlit cigarette in one hand.\ <<audio "sparkles" volume 0 fadeto 0.3 loop time 0>>\ <<audio "father_hum" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "father_hum_extra" unloop fadeout>>\ <<audio "father_hum_final" play>><<next 4s>> <<script>>flash_screen();<</script>>\ <<removeclass "body" "medium-dark">>\ <<removeclass "html" "medium-dark">>\ <<next 0.3s>> <div style="position:relative"><span class="image" id="dad_silhouette">[img[images/dad_silhouette.jpg]]</span>\ \ <div class="overlay_container"><<timed 5.7s t8n>>Did he see you? <<next 2.5s>>You can't be sure. <<next 2.1s>>If he called for you, the night would gobble up the words before you could hear them.<<next 3.3s>> But he isn't moving. <<next 2.1s>>This is a blessing. <<next 2.2s>>[[And the river waits.]]<<audio "sparkles" unloop fadeout>><</timed>></div></div><</timed>> \ <<audio "father_hum" fadeto 0.9>>\ <div id="flash" style="background-color: white;"></div>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><span class="image" id="foyer">[img[images/foyer.jpg]]</span> Sweeping your $light_source up and away from the vines, you catch an image of the whole room, covered all over by an uneven mixture of dust and ash. To your right, an open doorframe gapes wide, exposing an inky blackness that you <i>think</i> leads into the living room—though you can't quite recall. To your left, a glass-paned door you can't ever remember opening meets the bottom of a thin wooden staircase that extends up to an unseen landing. Between the two, far past the charred pots and crumbling bookshelves, another empty doorway leads on into the depths of the house. In the wind that loops around your back and through your fingers, you can still hear the echoes of a song. Far away, in a distant room, across an ocean. [[Something's wrong.]]\ <<audio TRKOS_loop fadeto 0.4>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>><<script>>clearRain(); createSoftRain();<</script>>\ <div class="title_div"><span style="color: #EEE; letter-spacing: 8px; font-size:36px;">SOFT EARTH</span> every ghost story is a love story</div> <div class="credits">\ <i>In loving memory of CJ Lakoduk, in whose absence the world grows ever smaller. I hope I have managed, in some way, to make it a little bigger again.</i> <table border=0 style="width: 100%; text-align: left;"> <tr> <td>Writing, Code, Music, and Sound Design</td> <td>Jon Sorce</td> <td>[[(Twitter)|http://www.twitter.com/sonjorce]] [[(Website)|http://www.jonsorce.com]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Illustrations</td> <td>Ellie Mejía</td> <td>[[(Twitter)|http://www.twitter.com/ellieviole]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Voice Acting</td> <td>Michaela Voit</td> <td>[[(Website)|http://www.michaela-voit.com]]</td> </tr> <tr> <td>Singing</td> <td>Elisabeth Del Toro</td> <td>[[(Website)|http://www.elisabethdeltoro.com]]</td> </tr> </table> Made in [[Twine|http://twinery.org/]] using [[Sugarcube|http://www.motoslave.net/sugarcube/]]. Thank you to Joe and Sophie for consistent, tremendous encouragement and advice. Thank you to Jesse for advising me in audio software and equipment, and to Mo for playtesting. Thank you to Michael Lutz for introducing me to Twine, and to Hanif Abdurraqib for gifting me the phrase "soft earth." Thank you to the many-acred wood, and to everyone who has ever sat with me on the grass and been made vulnerable in the dark.</div> <div class="title_div" style="font-size: 36px">[[WHAT NOW?]]</div>\ <<audio credits_song play>>\ <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>I spent hundreds of hours making <i>Soft Earth</i>. It is free to play. If you enjoyed it, <i>please please please please</i> share it with your friends, or on social media, or in skywriting. You can also rate the story over at [[itch.io|https://rudeghost.itch.io/soft-earth]] to help other people find it, or get in touch with me through [[Twitter|http://www.twitter.com/sonjorce]] if you have anything nice to say. You might like to look at my [[influences and acknowledgments]], or go [[back to the credits.|Thank you for playing.]] If you'd like to reread Grandma's final letter from the game, you can see that [[here.|letter-recreation]] Thank you for sharing some of your shadow with me. I love you, $name. I hope you manage to brave the dark tonight. <i>- Jon Sorce</i> <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>I was introduced to Twine by Michael Lutz's phenomenal horror games [[The Uncle Who Works for Nintendo|https://ztul.itch.io/the-uncle-who-works-for-nintendo]] and [[My Father's Long, Long Legs|http://correlatedcontents.com/misc/Father.html]]. My writing style for <i>Soft Earth</i> was heavily inspired by Hanif Abdurraqib, in particular the pieces [[Carly Rae Jepsen and the Kingdom of Desire|http://www.mtv.com/news/3021893/carly-rae-jepsen-toronto-symphony-orchestra/]] and [[Ohio on the Night Biggie Died|http://www.paperbagazine.com/IssueNo9/Willis-Abdurraqib_Ohio.html]] (the latter of which gave <i>Soft Earth</i> its name). Most of the text of this story was written while listening to [[this playlist|https://open.spotify.com/user/jsorce/playlist/2ypdNTrqfPBMhnoL4YSNlK?si=LbPG7AcpRTiS4a83Ebq1Rg]], though to be honest I mostly played "Summertime" by Vince Staples on loop (over 300 times) while writing. Most of the writing was done first on paper in the summer of 2017 while sitting at the shores of Lake Michigan, in Chicago. Most of the sounds in this game were recorded using an AT2020 condenser microphone, and were edited in Reaper. A list of non-original sounds that I borrowed from users on freesound.org is available [[here.|sound-list]] I owe a great debt to everyone who has ever told me not to be afraid. (back to [[WHAT NOW?]]) <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>(back to [[WHAT NOW?]]) <span class="grandma_letter">It was always going to end this way. With you and me, together, sharing this room across time with the distance of years standing between our souls. That rift may seem too much to bear. Even here, at the top of everything, with my words in your hands and whatever echo you can conjure of my voice in your ears, you might still feel alone. But here's the thing you may not have known, child: the furthest distance between any two hearts is still only a moment's passage for the right kind of love. And so it was that the voices in the grass told me tales of your footsteps, fated to track their way along the river on some hot night long after my last breath has been lost to the wind. You have always been different, my love. Destined for some burden too great for the weak limbs of this family tree to hold. I could see it in you from the moment you first opened your eyes, some strange magic too new and wonderful for my old hands to grasp. Whatever form this wonder takes when it bursts from your fingertips, it will not be easy. One day, I fear, listening to the tongues of the grass, you may start to feel this family has no place for you. Your mother, spun from starlight though she is, lost her second sight a long time ago. And in the times you need her to see you most, her eyes will cloud over with visions of a simpler world. But know this: there is a soul to these woods that I will join when I pass on, and that soul will always have a place for you. The boughs may bend, but the roots are strong. I have lived a long, long life, and in that time I have seen many, many things. I was in this town when the sprites flew away and left these hills without water for six years. I watched the last train roll along the tracks in the woods, watched the vines and the flowers of this forest comfort those lonely rails, wrapping them all over in a tender embrace. I watched countless years of children pluck the petals from those stems to breathe in deep their smells and witness, often for the first time, a love so great that it could leave no soul behind. I have tamed demons, and sewn up sprites, and loved people who did not know how to love me in return. This house is full of memories, each one another loop around the post that ties me here. With each year, the leash is reined in a little further. I can hardly stray from the stoop. It is time to move on, and my only regret is that I will not be there when that strange magic strikes you and you need someone to love you, and to hold you, and to tell you not to be afraid. I can only pray this letter will find you when you need it most. Then again, maybe you won't need me after all. At six years of age, you are already so brave. Can you smell it in the air? The clouds are breaking. Do not be afraid, my love. A new day will come. Oh, lord, grant me one last thing before I go. A rain and a fire to clear the air, that I might go into the dark unafraid. I can feel it already. Making the earth soft for me. I am ready to go. Up above the world, oh god, such <span style="padding-left: 30%">sweet</span> <span style="padding-left:39%">summer</span> <span style="padding-left:50%">rain.</span></span> <</timed>>\

<<timed 0s t8n>>(back to [[influences and acknowledgments]]) Sounds: - [[wind sounds 1|http://freesound.org/people/Bosk1/sounds/144085/]] - [[wind sounds 2|http://freesound.org/people/Bosk1/sounds/217186/]] - [[wind sounds 3|http://freesound.org/people/Julien%20Nicolas/sounds/131148/]] - [[cicadas|http://freesound.org/people/Leandros.Ntounis/sounds/163586/]] - [[water running in a brook|http://freesound.org/people/Owl/sounds/234057/]] - [[flashlight click|http://freesound.org/people/deleted_user_7146007/sounds/383659/]] - [[bowed vibraphone|http://freesound.org/people/cmorris035/sounds/254349/]] - [[creaking house|http://freesound.org/people/wilhelmus1959/sounds/195193/]] - [[squeaky floorboards|http://freesound.org/people/ListenTonyBoy/sounds/325502/]] - [[breaking glass|http://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/344266/]] - [[crunching glass|http://freesound.org/people/C_Rogers/sounds/191684/]] - [[cloth tearing sound 1|https://freesound.org/people/cognito%20perceptu/sounds/266190/]] - [[cloth tearing sound 2|https://freesound.org/people/Robinhood76/sounds/102834/]] - [[door handle jiggling|https://freesound.org/people/sagetyrtle/sounds/34589/]] - [[thunder 1|https://freesound.org/people/juskiddink/sounds/101933/]] - [[thunder 2|https://freesound.org/people/BlueDelta/sounds/367222/]] - [[water dripping 1|https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/343764/]] - [[water dripping 2|https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/343763/]] - [[water dripping 3|https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/343762/]] - [[water dripping 4|https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/343761/]] - [[rain 1|https://freesound.org/people/InspectorJ/sounds/401277/]] - [[rain 2|https://freesound.org/people/lebaston100/sounds/243627/]] <</timed>>\