Deprivation
Michael Coorlim
Introcomp 2015 TADS TADS 3
The surreality of sleep deprivation begins to take its toll... Introcomp 2015 entry.
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Deprivation A Story of Obsession and Transferance by Michael Coorlim IntroComp
distribution

It's three A.M. on Monday the 12th, and you're still awake.

It... it wasn't a good weekend, in a way that doesn't really seem real yet.
Like it's some nightmare you could wake up from if you could just get to sleep.
But how can you sleep? There's got to be some way to fix things. There has to
be. It can't end like this. You just have to, you know, figure out what it
is, do that, and everything will be okay again. Like it used to be.

Then again you have to be at work in four hours, and you didn't really get any
sleep last night, either. Maybe you should just try to get your mind off
things?

Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

On the coffee table you see your laptop, your coffee mug, and your cell phone.
You check what you're carrying
You are empty-handed.
Xme
(x me)
You're simply exhausted. You need sleep.
About yourself
You're simply exhausted. You need sleep.
You get in the bed
You get on your bed.
Sleep
You toss and turn aimlessly. It's just no use, your mind is too jumbled.
You think
You think, therefore you are.
You stand
Okay, you get off your bed.
Examine mug
The mug's white ceramic is stained with coffee residue. It's been in bad need
of a wash for a few days now.
You take the mug
Taken.
Go north
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

In the kitchen sink you see some dishes.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine and a toaster.
Wash mug
You turn on the sink's faucet, turning the mug over in your hands as the water
runs over it, scrubbing the insides with a sponge until the white ceramic is
spotless. It makes you feel slightly better to have accomplished something.
Briefly.
You wash the dishes
You clean your dirty dishes. It doesn't take very long, which was more or less
the point of only having one of each dish. That, and making sure that you
clean them regularly, though on that count it hasn't been quite as successful.
When you're done, you put them neatly away in the cabinet under the counter.
You look at the trash
Your trash bin is at that point where every time you throw something away,
you're playing that delicate game where if you can balance it on top of the
pile, you don't have to take it out yet.
You compress the trash
(press trash)
Pushing the overflowing trash bin has no effect.
You examine the fridge
Your fridge is an unappealing shade of lime green, and sounds like its powered
by a lawn-mower engine. The door is closed, the way it should be.
You open the fridge
Opening the fridge reveals a mostly empty mustard bottle, an empty egg carton,
a wilted head of lettuce, an expired carton of milk, and a piece of cake.
You look at cake
It's a piece of chocolate buttercream birthday cake wrapped in clear plastic.
Just looking at it hits you with a pang of guilt and regret, which you quickly
stuff down into a deep dark recess.
You eat the cake
You hold the cake for a moment before deciding that no, you don't deserve to
taste its chocolatey goodness.
You put the egg carton in the trash bin
(first taking the empty egg carton)
You put the empty egg carton in the overflowing trash bin.
You examine milk
The carton contains a thick sludge that may have once been milk.
You take the milk
Taken.
You put milk in trash bin
You put the expired carton of milk in the overflowing trash bin.
You put the lettuce in the trash bin
(first taking the wilted head of lettuce)
You put the wilted head of lettuce in the overflowing trash bin.
You put the mustard in trash bin
(first taking the mostly empty mustard bottle)
You put the mostly empty mustard bottle in the overflowing trash bin.
You eat the cake
You hold the cake for a moment before deciding that no, you don't deserve to
taste its chocolatey goodness.
You put the cake in the fridge
You put the piece of cake in the fridge.
You close the fridge
Done.
You make coffee
Which do you mean, the coffee machine or your coffee mug?
You look at the coffee machine
Your Keurig Vue V700 is about a foot tall, and almost as big around. You like
it a lot better than your old coffee machine; it's capable of brewing a much
stronger cup, has a wider temperature range, and best of all, the Vue cups are
recyclable. Best birthday present ever.
You look at the toaster
This is a simple two-slot toaster with a classic chrome design.
You look at the cabinet
You have a cabinet under the counter.
You open the cabinet
Opening the cabinet reveals some dishes.
Close cabinet
Done.
Go north
(first opening the bathroom door)

Your bathroom is the smallest you've ever seen, as if its inclusion was an
afterthought on the architect's part. The toilet is wedged in next to the
shower stall in a space so small that you need to keep your legs firmly
together when you sit on it. Oh, and get this: No sink.

On the shower rod you see your towel.
You examine the shower
Which do you mean, the shower drain, the shower rod, the shower stall, or the
shower curtain?
Stall
The shower stall is built into the tiled bathroom corner. A clear glass pane
forms the third wall, and the fourth, facing the door, is a shower curtain.
There's a drain in the middle of the stall's floor, below the shower head.
Controlling the water is a simple lever that you can turn towards the temperature you desire, should you decide to take a shower. Sitting on the
floor of the shower, in the back corner, are your shampoo, body wash, and
loofah.
Inventory
You are carrying your coffee mug.
You go south
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine and a toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see a wilted head of lettuce, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, an expired carton of milk, and an empty egg carton.
You put the mug on the counter
You put your coffee mug on the kitchen counter.
Go north
Your bathroom is the smallest you've ever seen, as if its inclusion was an
afterthought on the architect's part. The toilet is wedged in next to the
shower stall in a space so small that you need to keep your legs firmly
together when you sit on it. Oh, and get this: No sink.

On the shower rod you see your towel.
Close shower
Which do you mean, the shower drain, the shower rod, the shower stall, or the
shower curtain?
You examine the drain
It's a metal grate set into the shower's floor, about four or five inches in
diameter.
You take the shower
You strip down, get into the shower, and turn the water on. It takes a few
moments for the water to heat up and once it has you let the lukewarm stream
run over your body, washing away the troubles and sweat of your insomnia. For
a few minutes you just stand there, head resting against the wall, washing the
water pool around your feet before going down the drain. When you're able to
summon forth the motivation to continue, you use the shampoo to lather up your
hair, then soap up your loofah and suds up the rest of your body.

Somehow the rough texture of the loofah makes you feel cleaner, so you scrub
hard until your flesh is red and raw. Then you rinse out your hair, wash the
soap off your body, and turn off the water. You towel off and get dressed
again, feeling somewhat better. Cleaner, at any rate.
You examine the toilet
Your toilet is nudged into a very narrow alcove next to the shower stall. It
was last cleaned not too long ago.
You use the toilet
I don't recognize the command USE, because it's a bit too vague; please be more
specific about what you want to do.
You sit on the toilet
You get on the toilet.
You stand
Okay, you get off the toilet.
Go south
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine, your coffee mug, and a
toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see a wilted head of lettuce, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, an expired carton of milk, and an empty egg carton.
Go south
Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
been little more than a place to store your things, so you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

On the coffee table you see your laptop and your cell phone.
You examine the window
You feel fortunate that you have a window that looks out over some greenery
rather than the same urban tableau your last place had. That greenery happens
to be a municipal graveyard, but still.
You turn on tv
Done.
You watch the tv
An informercial is playing. Apparently some people are having extreme difficulties with common household tasks. If only there were a better way!
Change channel
You idly flip channels for awhile until you get to something that looks
interesting.
You watch the tv
You've seen this movie before, but it's a good one, and you're tuning in at one
of the more interesting parts. You follow the protagonists efforts to resolve
his dramatic need with growing anticipation, forgetting some of your own
problems in the process. It's like, it puts things into perspective for you,
you know?
Continue
You've seen this movie before, but it's a good one, and you're tuning in at one
of the more interesting parts. You follow the protagonists efforts to resolve
his dramatic need with growing anticipation, forgetting some of your own
problems in the process. It's like, it puts things into perspective for you,
you know?
You turn off the tv
Done.
You examine the bookcase
For a piece of furniture you found on the curb last trash-day, it's in surprisingly good condition. In the bookcase you see Descent
Macabre, Ten
Thousand Devils, Grief, Follow Your Heart,
Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled Temptations, and The Wind
Could Blow a Bug.
You read follow your heart
Adrian straightened, his desire to leave evaporating despite the awkward
situation. The glazenwright was beautiful, with a delicate oval
face, high
cheekbones and a small, straight nose. He knew he was staring,
but didn't want
to stop. There was something compelling about this woman aside
from her lovely
face, which was all he could see. Her heavy, serviceable black
cloak and
headdress concealed the rest.
Her expression captured him. Not the simpering moue of
court women, nor
the lustful gleam of barmaids or the respectful, downcast eyes of servants.
She radiated a quiet confidence he found enticing.
Their gazes met and locked. Hers conveyed curiosity and
mayhap a
challenge. He couldn't tell if she recognized him or what she'd gleaned of his
relationship with Lady Anne. Surely she'd be appalled if she
knew. After a
long moment, she looked away.

You can't remember the last time someone looked at you like that. No wait, you
can. And that makes it worse.
Go outside
It's kinda late at night to go wandering the streets aimlessly.
You look at the graveyard
By day, St. Phillip's Cemetery is a landscape of beautiful green lawns and
well-spaced headstones criss-crossed by neat gravel paths. At night, it looks
far more dark and foreboding, lit only by sporadically spaced lights that
illuminate only the paths immediately around them, leaving the gravestones as
dark shapes lurking in darkness. They seem to do a better job illuminating
your apartment.
You examine laptop
Your laptop was a birthday present. More-so than your phone, it serves as your
connection to the world outside your apartment. Mostly, you use it to check
your email and browse the web.
You read email
Unable to stop yourself, you spend half an hour pouring over dozens of increasingly passionate and disjointed emails, tracking the emotional journey
from loving and hopeful to bitter and resented. They tell a story within-a-
story, and you do your best to analyze each line, each phrase, each word for
deeper meaning, for clues as to their sender's true mental state. You hope to
find something that you missed, something to give you insight into the writers'
current mental space, but in the end all you find is heart-wrenching despair.
You browse web
You bring up your browser and start visiting your favorite web-sites and
forums.

After a few clicks you find yourself reading an internet post:

The most important thing you need to understand is that it's over.
You need to
remind yourself over and over again in the aftermath. This is the most
difficult lesson to learn, yet is the foundation for your entire recovery. You
cannot move on until you accept this basic fact. The best thing
you can do is
to try and live yourself normally, except for the parts that
aren't part of it
any more...

You know? This makes you feel a little better. Or, at least, a little more
hopeful.
Go north
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine, your coffee mug, and a
toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see a wilted head of lettuce, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, an expired carton of milk, and an empty egg carton.
You fill the mug
(kill mug)
It's best to avoid pointless violence.
You take the trash
'Don't spill the trash' may be a solitary game now, but you're not ready to
admit defeat.
Go south
Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
been little more than a place to store your things, so you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

In the bookcase you see Descent Macabre, Ten Thousand
Devils, Grief, Follow
Your Heart, Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled
Temptations, and The Wind Could Blow a Bug.

On the coffee table you see your laptop and your cell phone.
You examine the phone
It's so weird how in only a few years the expectation became one of everybody
having a smart-phone. Well, you don't. Just an old clam-shell without a
touchscreen or internet access. Then again, the battered casing is testament
to how often you can drop the damn thing without it breaking.

Still, you can use it to send and read texts or call people, and what more do
you really need?
You read the texts
One word. Four letters. All caps. It says so much with so little.
A little
red-hot blade slipping right into your heart. You can't read any more.
You meditate
(cogitate)
You think, therefore you are.
You look at the books
For a piece of furniture you found on the curb last trash-day, it's in surprisingly good condition. In the bookcase you see Descent
Macabre, Ten
Thousand Devils, Grief, Follow Your Heart,
Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled Temptations, and The Wind
Could Blow a Bug.
You read Bug
Wade's hand felt hot in Jane's as he guided her down the dirt path behind the
bar that led into the woods. The moonless night gave no
indication of where
they were headed. She was alternating between fear and
excitement. She felt
the hard packed dirt beneath her shoes. If Wade Tucker was a
serial killer,
she was sure she would have heard about it by now.
Unless, of course, she hadn't because he had silenced all
his victims.
"Where are we going?"
"Like I told you, to cool off."
With that, they turned a corner, emerging from the woods.
A far off
yard light could be seen shining on the other end of the lake
before them.
"You ever been skinny dippin'?" The drop in his voice when
he said the
words sent a tremor down Jane's spine.

You stop reading. You'd thought Shannon had taken all of her books with her.
Looks like she missed this one. Maybe... maybe she'll have to come back and
get it, once she notices its absence.
You call Shannon
(first taking your cell phone)
You call your ex and leave a voicemail, immediately regretting it.
You read Devils
The sun was a blade of red on the western horizon and the sky was magic purple
when he heard the distant slap of gunshots to the north-northeast, about a mile
out. A cartwheel of stars peppered overhead, casting diamonds
from south to
north, almost drawing a line to his destination.
Sawyer threw down the fishbones he was sucking and wriggled
into the top
of his neosuit, strapping on his vest as he walked, carrying his pistol in his
mouth. When he was fully kitted he ran full-tilt through the
marsh, the
revolver in one fist, sawgrass beating against his armored chest
and legs.

A full hour slips away while you get lost in the engrossing book.
You read the Grief
The riot swept through the city, organic, driven by the carnal
urge to possess,
to control, to destroy. This was its third day of existence, its third day of
life, scouring streets with the hunger of an ant colony. Those
who it swept
over either fell to its fury or succumbed to the rising anxiety,
the mounting
dread, the directionless frustration that fueled it, becoming part
of its
strength, replacing the parts of it that had worn out or had been overcome by
futility.
Officer Lange braced herself against the mob, standing
side-by-side,
shield by shield with her fellow officers. Their high-impact
polymer barriers
held firm against the crush, the roiling beast buffing up against
the wall
created to channel it, to guide it. The police lacked the
manpower to stop it,
to even begin to contain it, so they did they best they could to
send it where
it could do the least amount of damage.
Again and again the shield-wall shuddered, threatening to
give. Lange
found herself gritting and leaning into each impact even as her
boots' traction
started to give against the asphalt. For a terrifying moment she
felt herself
slipping. A firm hand from behind shored her up, gripping her by
the elbows.

It's a book about monumental loss on a planetary scale. Why did you subject
yourself to that?
You look at the books
For a piece of furniture you found on the curb last trash-day, it's in surprisingly good condition. In the bookcase you see Descent
Macabre, Ten
Thousand Devils, Grief, Follow Your Heart,
Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled Temptations, and The Wind
Could Blow a Bug.
You read forever
sky, which was
growing clearer by the minute. Even though the constellations
were foreign to
her, they still comforted her somehow. And once she had removed
the last of
her clothes and placed her wristcomm safely under them, she
noticed how
comforting the warm breeze was. She had never been to a world
where the air
itself caressed her in a loving embrace, even in the middle of the night.
She dipped her toe into the water and found it to be
remarkably warm.
With each step, her body went deeper into the womb-like
environment of the warm
pond, and soon the water was up to her shoulders. She wiped some
dirt off of
her wrist and hugged herself.

A hug. When was the last time you got a hug? How long has it been since
you've had any casual yet intimate human contact? A kiss? A slight touch of
the hand? God, it hurts. Why do the most innocuous things hurt you so?
You look around
Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
been little more than a place to store your things, so you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

In the bookcase you see Descent Macabre, Ten Thousand
Devils, Grief, Follow
Your Heart, Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled
Temptations, and The Wind Could Blow a Bug.

On the coffee table you see your laptop.
You examine the door
Your front door is bevelled wood painted white, fairly plain, lacking in a
peephole. It leads out out to the third floor landing.
You open the door
You open the front door.
Go outside
It's kinda late at night to go wandering the streets aimlessly.
You look around
Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
been little more than a place to store your things, so you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

In the bookcase you see Descent Macabre, Ten Thousand
Devils, Grief, Follow
Your Heart, Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled
Temptations, and The Wind Could Blow a Bug.

On the coffee table you see your laptop.
You examine the door
Your front door is bevelled wood painted white, fairly plain, lacking in a
peephole. It leads out out to the third floor landing.
Go north
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine, your coffee mug, and a
toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see a wilted head of lettuce, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, an expired carton of milk, and an empty egg carton.
You take the bin
'Don't spill the trash' may be a solitary game now, but you're not ready to
admit defeat.
You go south
Your studio apartment is lit by the soft ever-present glow of the city lights
coming in through the window, flat-screen television set below the sill to
avoid screen glare. For most of the year you've lived here, your apartment has
been little more than a place to store your things, so you don't have much in
the way of furnishings... just the bed, a bookcase you found on the curb, and
the scuffed coffee table next to it. North, past the door leading out to the
building's hall, is the apartment's kitchen.

In the bookcase you see Descent Macabre, Ten Thousand
Devils, Grief, Follow
Your Heart, Heavy Cross, The Island on the Edge
of Forever, Tangled
Temptations, and The Wind Could Blow a Bug.

On the coffee table you see your laptop.
You take all
You take Heavy Cross, Tangled Temptations, The
Wind Could Blow a Bug, The
Island on the Edge of Forever, Ten Thousand Devils,
Descent Macabre, Grief,
Follow Your Heart, and your laptop.
You take the book
The bookcase is too heavy to move.
You take heavy
You're already holding Heavy Cross.
Inventory
You are carrying Descent Macabre, Ten Thousand
Devils, Grief, Follow Your
Heart, your laptop, Heavy Cross, your cell phone,
The Island on the Edge of
Forever, Tangled Temptations, and The Wind Could
Blow a Bug.
Go north
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine, your coffee mug, and a
toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see a wilted head of lettuce, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, an expired carton of milk, and an empty egg carton.
You put all in the bin
You can't put anything in itself.
The empty egg carton is already in the overflowing trash bin.
The expired carton of milk is already in the overflowing trash bin. The wilted head of lettuce is already in the overflowing trash bin. The mostly empty mustard bottle is already in the overflowing trash bin.
toaster: (first trying to take the toaster)
Leave the toaster where it is. Nine out of ten Feng Shui experts agree that
the best place for a toaster is on the kitchen counter. The tenth has been
going through a rough patch.
coffee machine: (first trying to take the coffee machine)
While the Keurig Vue V700 coffee machine is very portable at a mere 13 pounds,
it does require to be plugged in to function. The counter is the best place
for it.
(first taking your coffee mug)
You put your cell phone, Heavy Cross, Tangled
Temptations, The Wind Could Blow
a Bug, The Island on the Edge of Forever, Ten
Thousand Devils, Descent Macabre,
Grief, Follow Your Heart, your laptop, and your
coffee mug in the overflowing
trash bin.
Go north
Your bathroom is the smallest you've ever seen, as if its inclusion was an
afterthought on the architect's part. The toilet is wedged in next to the
shower stall in a space so small that you need to keep your legs firmly
together when you sit on it. Oh, and get this: No sink.

On the shower rod you see your towel.
You take all
Forget your towel.
You go south
Your apartment's kitchen is fairly cramped. Your fridge is against the north
wall next to the bathroom door, across from the counter containing the sink
next to the oven. There's little under the counter, except for a single
cramped cabinet. You'd probably cook more often if you had more counterspace,
but you just get so frustrated when you try... there's barely enough room for
the toaster and coffee machine. It's just easier to order out.

You can see an overflowing trash bin here.

On the kitchen counter you see a coffee machine and a toaster.

In the overflowing trash bin you see Ten Thousand Devils,
Descent Macabre, The
Island on the Edge of Forever, The Wind Could Blow a
Bug, your laptop, Grief,
Follow Your Heart, your coffee mug, an expired carton of
milk, a wilted head of
lettuce, an empty egg carton, Tangled Temptations, Heavy
Cross, a mostly empty
mustard bottle, and your cell phone.
You take the bin
'Don't spill the trash' may be a solitary game now, but you're not ready to
admit defeat.
You open the fridge
Opening the fridge reveals a piece of cake.
You take the the cake
Taken.
You look at the sink
It's a simple basin kitchen sink, shiny and chrome.
You look at the counter
Your kitchen counters are a mess, stained with coffee, drabs of spilt milk, and
various other food stains. It's been days since you
Kitchen                                                         0/122 Exits: north   south
You open the cabinet
Kitchen                                                         0/124 Exits: north   south
You take the dishes
Kitchen                                                         0/125 Exits: north   south
Inventory
Kitchen                                                         0/126 Exits: north   south
Clean counter
Kitchen                                                         0/127 Exits: north   south
You look at the counter
Kitchen                                                         0/128 Exits: north   south
You go north
Bathroom                                                        0/129 Exits: out
Yes
cheaptads quit with exit status: 0