Photograph: A Portrait of Reflection
Steve Evans
Australian contemplative cover art first effort flashback IF Competition 2002 IFComp Game Xyzzy Awards 2002
A story-driven, almost puzzleless work about a man obsessed with what he perceives to have been a wrong turn in his life. The story has dark themes with elements that are either fantasy, or delusion on the part of the protagonist.
%
You're seated comfortably, hunched forward in your armchair. The frame rests on your lap, cradled in both hands, the continuing focus of your attention.

You no longer sense change...

In the periphery of your vision you see something of the room - the wood stove, a window. Beyond your field of view there is nothing but clutter and increasing irrelevance. You're pleased that you'll never have to look on any of it again.

The initial euphoria has subsided. Replaced by a sense of ease, of place, of things being, well... right.

It can't be long now...



Living Room (in the armchair)
The frame rests on your lap.

N = next subject                                        P = previous RETURN = read subject                                Q = resume game

Important information - Please read before playing
Background
Credits
Release History
Walkthrough
Redisplay Opening Text
You examine the frame
The frame is made from Baltic pine. Within the frame is a rectangle of pure and unrelieved white. You think that perhaps you can discern some flicker of motion there, but then again it may only be your imagination.
You look at the motion
It's probably just wishful thinking on your part. There seems to be nothing there but a white rectangle.
You examine the window
The window (now closed) looks out over the yard. The afternoon sunlight streams through. You see a bird sitting on the outside sill.
You look at the bird
The bird is a starling. It stands unmoving, with its head slightly cocked, beak open. Starlings are common enough, but you are certain you've seen this particular bird before.
You listen
You hear the high-pitched sound of the bird.
You open the window
You lose yourself in thought...
You stand on a balcony looking out over treetops and distant roofs to the river and the hills beyond. The sky is pink and blue pastels, the sun barely risen above the late morning mists and woodsmoke haze. A fog rolls down the river valley like a lazy cloud.

As you move to pull your coat closer about you against the cold a startled bird takes flight from the eaves above your head. You follow its progress to a nearby blue gum.

You are on a wooden balcony that looks out over a river valley. An open door to the west leads back into the house. You are cold.
About yourself
Your coat is old and weathered. The pockets are empty.

You are 55 years old, but look (and feel) much older. Although you aren't planning on going far away from your wood fire today, you are nevertheless rugged up in a thick coat.
You look at the valley
A dense fog fills the river valley.
You examine the gum
It's a tall blue gum eucalyptus tree. A bird sits on a high branch.
You examine the bird
The bird is a starling. It looks agitated.
Sing
Your singing is abominable.
About yourself
You are 55 years old, but look (and feel) much older. Although you aren't planning on going far away from your wood fire today, you are nevertheless rugged up in a thick coat.
You go west
You take a deep breath of the smoke-laden air (the chill cutting your lungs like little knives), then enter the house.

Living Room (East)
On entering the living room you find yourself oppressed by the clutter and do your best to ignore it. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west.
You say piu piu
[The story read that as "say it it"].
(to yourself)
There is no reply.
You examine the clutter
The room is full to bursting with all manner of items scavenged or bought at auctions or fire-sales; furniture, paintings, tools, bric-a-brac and junk. Most are covered in a substantial layer of dust. You wonder what possessed you. The only thing here that still holds any interest for you rests on an old pine mantel near the window.
You close the door
You close the back door.
You examine the mantel
Your attention inevitably shifts to the mantel and you're reassured by the sight of the picture sitting where you left it.
You examine the picture
The picture-frame is made of Baltic pine. The photograph it contains is slightly overexposed and was taken using a flash.

Depicted are a young man and young woman leaning with their backs to the rail of a rough wooden deck, backed by the spray of a narrow waterfall cascading down two tiers of mudstone outcrop. Bordering the waterfall is thick temperate rainforest vegetation: a canopy of tall myrtle and sassafras trees, beneath which are leatherwood and tree-ferns, all covered in moss, lichen, shell-fungus. The boy has his arm around the girl's shoulder. Both are wearing light bushwalking clothes, and he carries a day pack. The boy looks cocky and confident and wears an idiotic 'say cheese' grin. The girl is not smiling. This was not, as you recall it, that she had been unhappy, just unused to having her picture taken.

"It's like giving away a piece of your soul," she had once joked.

As it happens she had smiled just after the shot was taken; a small, nervous smile of relief (you mimic the smile at the memory).
You look at the man
A fool, clearly.
You smile
You smile, again.
You examine girl
The girl has a stern, set expression.
Kiss frame
You can only do that to something animate.
You examine the touch picture
The girl has a stern, set expression.

You can't see any such thing.
You consider the girl
In your mind you can still picture her clearly as she was on that day - with that long raven hair and those big brown eyes.
You take the photo
Taken.
You consider the boy
You were young then, and too cock-sure for your own good.
Look around
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
You look at armchair
Your armchair is old and threadbare. You have spent a lot of time in this chair.
You examine the stove
The mantel came from the home of one of your neighbours. He was going to throw it out but you thought it too good to waste. It now takes up space, resting against your wall.

It's a pot-bellied wood stove. A fire blazes within and there is a supply of firewood beside it.
You look at the fire
It's a pot-bellied wood stove. A fire blazes within and there is a supply of firewood beside it.
You sit on the chair
You turn up your jacket collar and sink back into the faded armchair, elbow patches neatly covering matching holes in the upholstery. You soon begin to feel the warmth radiating from the wood stove.
You throw the picture in the fire
The photograph belongs on the mantel.
You consider the fire
The fire is blazing, but you still feel a chill.
About yourself
You are 55 years old, but look (and feel) much older. Although you aren't planning on going far away from your wood fire today, you are nevertheless rugged up in a thick coat.
Up
You'll have to get out of the armchair first.
Go outside
You get out of the armchair.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
Go north
As you enter your bedroom you see a large spider, nearly the size of your hand, crawl under the bed.

Your bedroom is small and comparatively tidy. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and the bed itself. There is a window here facing north and the living room is to the south.
You look under the bed
It was a huntsman spider, but it is now nowhere to be seen. Those things can hide anywhere. You'd be lucky to find it without taking the bed apart. But it's best left alone in any case. They aren't dangerous, and they help keep down the flies. There is a metal box here under your bed.
You look at the box
It's a closed metal box.
You get it
You pull the metal box out from under the bed.
You open it
You open the metal box, revealing some rolls of $50 notes.
You consider the money
You ended up with a lot of cash when you sold the business, more than enough to meet your simple needs for the rest of your life. You've never trusted banks.
You consider the the economy
Nothing of interest occurs to you.
Close box
You close the metal box.
You look at the wardrobe
It's a large solid piece of furniture, made of blackwood. Right now, it's closed.
You open it
You open your wardrobe. It contains clothing.
You open it
That's already open.
You examine the clothing
You're already wearing your coat. There is nothing here that you need.

You're already wearing your coat. There is nothing here that you need.
Wear clothing
(first taking the clothes)
You are already dressed. You don't need the clothing.
You examine the coat
Your coat is old and weathered. The pockets are empty.
Close wardrobe
You close the wardrobe.
You look around
This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
You look at the bed
Your bed is unmade. The top sheet is pulled back and the blankets are strewn about.
You make the bed
It's a bit late to start changing the habits of a lifetime.
You look through the window
It's a small window. Through it you see your four-wheel-drive parked outside.
You examine the car
A battered old Landcruiser. You've had it for years.
You lie in the bed
You lie down on the bed.
You get up
You get off the bed.

This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
Go west
Living Room (West)
This is the other half of your living area (again heavily cluttered). This space also serves as your kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.
You open the cupboard
You open the cupboard.
You examine the clutter
Your living area is full of all manner of items scavenged or bought over the years.
You go north
Your bathroom is small but functional. There is a bath, toilet and a hand basin. The room also has a small wall-mounted mirror. The living room is to the south.
You examine sink
It's just a hand basin.
You examine the mirror
It's a small shaving mirror, mounted over the hand basin.
Was the hands
I beg your pardon?
Uc nadia
[The story read that as "c nadia"].
She was not the one for you.
You wonder about the health
[The story read that as "wonder about head"].
Nothing of interest occurs to you.
You look at your surroundings
Your bathroom is small but functional. There is a bath, toilet and a hand basin. The room also has a small wall-mounted mirror. The living room is to the south.
You go to the south
Living Room (West)
This area of your living room doubles as a kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.
Go west
It's cold outside. You have no wish to leave the house right now.
Go east
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
You take the mantel
The mantel is too heavy to lift.
You examine the mantel
The pine mantel stands propped up against the wall, near the window.
You sit on it
You sit back in your armchair.
You search the cushions for the change
[The story read that as "search cushions for each"].
You see no cushions here.
You examine the fire
[The story read that as "set"].
What do you want to set?

It's a pot-bellied wood stove. A fire blazes within and there is a supply of firewood beside it.
You wait
Time passes.
You gaze into the fire
[The story read that as "z into fire"].
I only understood you as far as wanting to wait.
You think
To think about an item or topic, you should use the form "THINK ABOUT item/topic".
You think about illness
Nothing of interest occurs to you.
You shiver
[The story read that as "shine"].
What do you want to shine?
You examine the door
The door to the balcony is closed.
You warm yourself
[The story read that as "wear yourself"].
You see no yourself here.
Go outside
You get out of the armchair.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
You go to the east
(first opening the back door)

You are on a wooden balcony that looks out over a river valley. An open door to the west leads back into the house.
You jump
It's a long way down. Jumping from here would only further complicate your day.
You examine the bird
The bird has gone.
You search the clutter
You rummage around in the junk for a while. You get as far as the dusty cardboard carton you found last time you decided to have a clean-up. It was in this same box that you found the photograph, and once more you get no further.

There is a cardboard carton here.
You examine the carton
The carton contains a number of old possessions scattered loose, including a pile of photographs and various unrelated oddments. The only things there that hold any interest for you right now are a rather moth-eaten animal skin hat and a small brass ornament.
You examine the photos
Some of the photos date from your days at the office, and all feature people or places you either don't remember or would rather forget. The rest of the items are an eclectic mix of bits and pieces that are of no particular interest or worth. The most bizarre of these items is a jar containing your appendix, which was removed when you were a child.
You examine the ornament
The ornament is an ankh. A gift from Nadia.
You examine the hat
The hat is made from possum skin. You remember it well.
You look at  appendix
It's a glass jar containing your appendix. You have no idea why you kept it.
You take the hat
Taken.
Inventory
You are wearing your possum skin hat.
You look at the hat
It's your favourite hat. You wear it almost wherever you go.
You remove the hat
You take off your possum skin hat.
You wear it
You put on your possum skin hat.
About yourself
You're a scrawny kid, wearing as ever, your possum skin hat and a thick duffel coat. Thin pipe-cleaner legs are visible below your shorts - "Hollow legs", your grandmother calls them, although you wonder how anything so thin could be hollow. On your feet are rather worn leather walking boots.
Vu
[The story read that as "c"].
What do you want to c?
You go upward
You are on a rocky track, surrounded by eucalypt forest. The track rises steeply to the northwest and winds back down the slope to the east. Another narrower path, not much more than an animal trail, leads away to the south.
You go south
Part way along the track you spot an echidna, digging for ants on the path. At your approach it abandons its labour and shuffles with surprising speed off the track and into the undergrowth. As you pass you hear it furiously digging itself into the earth, spraying sod and
Go south
dirt over the long quills on its back.

You have entered a small, familiar clearing surrounded in all directions except to the south by stands of white gum eucalypt trees and dense undergrowth. To the south rises a large lichen-covered rock. The air here is damp and close - heavy with the scents of eucalyptus and wild flowers. A narrow trail leads back to the north.

You clamber up the side of the rock, deftly finding those hand and footholds that you know so well.

This rock is your favourite place - a place where you like to come to sit and think, or just to be alone. It's only after making the short climb from the clearing that you can see the rock for what it is - and get some idea of its magnitude. Before you it drops away sharply, towering over the trees of the forest below, giving you a superb view out over of the rolling foothills of the mountain and the wide river valley beyond. Out on the rock you're exposed to the full force of the Southerly wind and you brace yourself against it. As you do so, you catch sight of something you hadn't noticed before in a crack near the rock's far edge.
You examine crack
There's a small white gum seedling growing in the dirt that has collected in the crack. On seeing the seedling you immediately feel an affinity with it, and can't help feeling concerned for its predicament. It has no chance of growing into a tree where it is.
You go north
You carefully climb back down to the clearing.

You are in a small, familiar clearing surrounded in all directions except to the south by stands of white gum eucalypt trees and dense undergrowth. To the south rises a large lichen-covered rock. The air here is damp and close - heavy with the scents of eucalyptus and wild flowers. A narrow trail leads back to the north.
Plant seed
[The story read that as "plant me"].
(first taking yourself)
You are always self-possessed.
Plant tree
The ground here is too rocky.
You check what you're carrying
You are wearing your possum skin hat.
You are carrying a white gum seedling.
Go northwest
Verge (beside the road)
You've come up a steep incline onto a cleared dirt verge beside the mountain summit road. This is a bend in the gravel road, which runs on and up towards the north like a ragged scar across the face of the mountain, and back to the southwest where it winds its way steadily down through the foothills and towards the city. On the far side of the road is a ditch, etched out over the years by the elements and run-off. Just beyond the ditch is a sheer cliff several times your height, marking where this part of the road has been cut into the mountain-side. A rocky track leads back down to the southeast.

You hear your grandmother calling. Your lunch must be ready.
Plant gum
(the seedling)
You dig a small hole and carefully plant the seedling.
Go east
You are on a rocky track, surrounded by eucalypt forest. The track leads down a gentle slope to the northeast towards your house and continues higher up the mountain to the west.
You go to the north-east
You are at the back door to your grandparents' house which is to the east. The forest extends almost down to the back veranda and a rocky track to the southwest leads back into the bush. Through a window you can see into the kitchen, where your grandmother and grandfather are sitting at the table having lunch. They seem to be arguing about something. You can hear their raised voices. You could probably listen without being noticed.
You listen
You hear your grandparents arguing. As usual, it is your grandmother who has the most to say. She is angry as it seems your grandfather has loaned a lot of money to Mr Timpson, who runs the local store. Your grandmother doesn't think they can spare the money and obviously doesn't think they'll ever see it again. You've never liked Mr Timpson, but you know his father and your grandfather were friends.
Go east
As you open the back door and enter the kitchen your grandparents abruptly stop their argument. Your grandfather looks up from his food, and gives you a conspiratory wink. Your grandmother snorts, and points towards your seat. The air at the table is tense, but you barely notice as you hungrily eat your lunch.

Those days seem such a long time ago now...
Inventory
You are carrying a possum skin hat and the picture-frame.
You look at the carton
The carton contains a number of old possessions scattered loose, including a pile of photographs and various unrelated oddments. The only thing there that holds any interest for you right now is a small brass ornament.
You examine the ornament
The ornament is an ankh. A gift from Nadia.
You open the frame
You lose yourself in thought...
It's Saturday and as usual you're at your market stall. You make the journey here once a week to sell old tools, books and assorted junk. The weekly market is set outdoors among the convict-built sandstone buildings near the city's waterfront - once warehouses, seedy pubs and brothels, but now mostly converted to art galleries, craft shops and caf?s. Beyond these colonial buildings and the modest high-rises behind them, you see the mountain - a stark and imposing backdrop to the city, and for once not covered in clouds. The surrounding stalls have brightly coloured awnings, making yours appear somewhat drab in comparison. To the south a busker plays a violin, while from the north come the strains of South American folk music played on guitar and pan-pipes. Nearby, a man dressed as a clown twists balloons into animal shapes.

It's a hot day and the place is busy, though not for you. You haven't sold a thing all morning. To top it off, Nadia should be here helping with the stall, but you haven't seen her in nearly two days. You wonder what her excuse might be, this time.

At the Market (behind your stall)
You are tending your stall at the weekly outdoor market near the city's waterfront. Nearby, a man dressed as a clown is making balloon animals.
About you
Although well into your thirties, you're still pretty fit.
You look at the stall
Your stall consists of two covered wooden trestle tables, set out with the old tools, books and assorted junk you've brought along to sell.
You look at the books
There is nothing remarkable about any of the items you have for sale. You sometimes have rare, or sought-after stuff, but not today. It's therefore small wonder that you haven't sold anything.
You sell the books
I beg your pardon?
You look at the man
Which do you mean, the clown or the busker?
Clown
The clown is twisting helium-filled balloons into the shape of a dog. To entertain the waiting children he sings a nursery rhyme.

"Hey, diddle, diddle,
The cat and the fiddle,
The cow jumped over the moon,
The little dog laughed to see such sport,
And the dish ran away with the spoon."

On noticing your attention the clown winks, then waves, accidentally bursting one of the balloons in the process and uttering a very un-clown-like exclamation.

An elderly lady arrives at your stall and begins carefully considering an 'antique' porcelain cat. She looks up as though about to ask something, then changes her mind and hobbles away.
You examine the busker
The busker is an old man, raggedly dressed. He is dancing and playing a jig on a violin. A battered violin case lies open on the ground in front of him. The area around the busker is one of the few uncrowded spaces at the market. The lack of an audience doesn't seem to be concerning him one bit.
You talk to the busker
To talk to someone you should use the form "TALK TO person ABOUT topic".

You can't help noticing that the clown is having more problems with his balloon animals. It's always reassuring to see someone having a worse day than you.
You talk to the clown about the balloons
The clown is preoccupied and doesn't respond.

Things are going very slowly. You really do wonder where Nadia is. You could do with a break.
You talk to the busker about the violin
The busker smiles and plays a little faster.
Look around
At the Market (behind your stall)
You are tending your stall at the weekly outdoor market near the city's waterfront. It's a bright, sunny day and the place is bustling with activity. Beyond the colonial sandstone buildings that line the marketplace and the modest high-rises behind them, you see the mountain. Nearby, a man dressed as a clown is making balloon animals. To the south a raggedly dressed busker plays a violin, while further away to the north a crowd gathers around a band playing South American folk music.
You examine the crowd
The market is a lively place today. It's bustling with people from all walks of life.
You look at the band
The band are dressed in traditional South American costume, brightly coloured woollen hats and ponchos, and must be sweltering on a day like today. There is a large crowd gathering to hear their music.
Look around
At the Market (behind your stall)
You are tending your stall at the weekly outdoor market near the city's waterfront. It's a bright, sunny day and the place is bustling with activity. Beyond the colonial sandstone buildings that line the marketplace and the modest high-rises behind them, you see the mountain. Nearby, a man dressed as a clown is making balloon animals. To the south a raggedly dressed busker plays a violin, while further away to the north a crowd gathers around a band playing South American folk music.

A man dressed in overalls walks by. He suddenly notices something among the old tools you've laid out on a trestle table. "Hey, I haven't seen one of those in years!" he exclaims. Then he laughs and disappears back into the crowd.

Through the crowds you catch a glimpse of Nadia. She seems to be heading your way, and has someone with her.
You examine him
The busker is an old man, raggedly dressed. He is dancing and playing a jig on a violin. A battered violin case lies open on the ground in front of him. The area around the busker is one of the few uncrowded spaces at the market. The lack of an audience doesn't seem to be concerning him one bit.

Nadia pushes her way through the crowd and arrives at your stall. She's wearing a thin, ankle-length blue dress and is well bedecked with jewellery - gaudy paste rings, gold-coloured bangles and bands coiled around her bare arms and large lapis lazuli earrings shaped like asps. At her side is someone you haven't met. He's a youngish man, perhaps in his early twenties, tall and athletic - all chin, with a physique that looks as though it could have been carved from marble - and a crop of short dark curly hair. Nadia has a firm grip on his elbow.

"Hello, Jack." (There's that smile.)

"'lo, Nadia. It's been a while. Are you going to introduce us?" You glance towards her companion.

"This is Mark," says Nadia. "He's an artist. Mark, meet Jack. Jack Downer."

"Hello, Mark."

"Er...It's Michael, actually...," stammers Nadia's friend.

"You're Mark Anthony," corrects Nadia, and he nervously shifts his feet.

"I see," you reply, then turning to Nadia - "And you are...?"

"I was Cleopatra, of course. Time moves on, Jack, and we must move with it. We had our share of good times, but now it's over. You know it as well as I. Mark and I are going up to the house to get my stuff. I came to say good-bye."

For once you find yourself lost for words. Looking away from Nadia's face your attention is drawn to the brass ankh she wears around her neck. She once bought it for you as a present, a symbol, as she put it, "of the life-energy we share". Needless to say, you thought it looked better on her.
You ask Mark about her
(Nadia)
"Don't you worry about Nadia. I'll look after her."
You ask Nadia about us
"We had our time, Jack. Some of it was fun. I'm with Mark now."
You beat the the shit out of mark
[The story read that as "eat the shit out of mark"].
You see no the here.
You give the ankh to Nadia
(first taking the ankh)

"Hey, if you wanted the ankh back, you only had to ask." Nadia takes off the ankh, unthreads it from its chain and hands it to you. "Good-bye, Jack." She turns and walks back into the crowd, 'Mark' in tow.

You'd considered throwing the thing away. But, of course you never did...
You press the space
Everything melts away...

...and you find yourself back in your living room.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.

It is getting late in the day. The shadows in the room are lengthening.
You hit Mark
You take a wild swing at 'Mark' and manage to get a lucky punch right on that marble chin of his. Buoyed by this success and barely able to resist a gleeful cackle, you circle him looking for another opening. But that's where everything starts to go pear-shaped. Within a few seconds you're lying flat on your back in front of your stall, bleeding profusely from the nose. Nadia looks totally disgusted with both of you and turns to leave. As she does so she takes off the ankh, unthreads it from its chain and drops it on your blood stained T-shirt. "You always were a fool, Jack. I think you've got more need of this than me." She turns and walks back into the crowd, alone.

It didn't happen that way, of course, but hey, perhaps it should have...

You'd considered throwing the ankh away. But, you never did...
You look at the carton
The carton contains a number of old possessions scattered loose, including a pile of photographs and various unrelated oddments. There is nothing there that holds any interest for you right now.
You look at your surroundings
At the Market (behind your stall)
You are tending your stall at the weekly outdoor market near the city's waterfront. It's a bright, sunny day and the place is bustling with activity. Beyond the colonial sandstone buildings that line the marketplace and the modest high-rises behind them, you see the mountain. Nearby, a man dressed as a clown is making balloon animals. To the south a raggedly dressed busker plays a violin, while further away to the north a crowd gathers around a band playing South American folk music.

Through the crowds you catch a glimpse of Nadia. She seems to be heading your way, and has someone with her.
You find the weapon
[The story read that as "in weapon"].
I only understood you as far as wanting to in.
You examine the stall
Your stall consists of two covered wooden trestle tables, set out with the old tools, books and assorted junk you've brought along to sell.

Nadia pushes her way through the crowd and arrives at your stall. She's wearing a thin, ankle-length blue dress and is well bedecked with jewellery - gaudy paste rings, gold-coloured bangles and bands coiled around her bare arms and large lapis lazuli earrings shaped like asps. At her side is someone you haven't met. He's a youngish man, perhaps in his early twenties, tall and athletic - all chin, with a physique that looks as though it could have been carved from marble - and a crop of short dark curly hair. Nadia has a firm grip on his elbow.

"Hello, Jack." (There's that smile.)

"'lo, Nadia. It's been a while. Are you going to introduce us?" You glance towards her companion.

"This is Mark," says Nadia. "He's an artist. Mark, meet Jack. Jack Downer."

"Hello, Mark."

"Er...It's Michael, actually...," stammers Nadia's friend.

"You're Mark Anthony," corrects Nadia, and he nervously shifts his feet.

"I see," you reply, then turning to Nadia - "And you are...?"

"I was Cleopatra, of course. Time moves on, Jack, and we must move with it. We had our share of good times, but now it's over. You know it as well as I. Mark and I are going up to the house to get my stuff. I came to say good-bye."

For once you find yourself lost for words. Looking away from Nadia's face your attention is drawn to the brass ankh she wears around her neck. She once bought it for you as a present, a symbol, as she put it, "of the life-energy we share". Needless to say, you thought it looked better on her.
Smack nadia
[The story read that as "ask nadia"].
What do you want to ask Nadia about?
Punch nadia
Nothing would be gained from resorting to violence against Nadia.

An elderly lady arrives at your stall and begins carefully considering an 'antique' porcelain cat. She looks up as though about to ask something, then changes her mind and hobbles away.
Kiss nadia
"It's too late for that now, Jack." Nadia keeps her distance.
You ask Nadia about the stall
"I'm sorry about leaving you in the lurch with the stall, but nobody buys this junk any more anyway. Perhaps you should give it up."
You ask Nadia about the ankh
"The ankh? Sorry, Jack. I'd forgotten It was yours." Nadia takes the chain from around her neck, unthreads the ankh and hands it to you. "Good-bye, Jack." She turns and walks back into the crowd, 'Mark' in tow.

You'd considered throwing the thing away. But, of course you never did...
Everything melts away...

...and you find yourself back in your living room.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
You ask Michael about himself
[The story read that as "ask michael about smile"].
'Mark' has nothing to say about that.
You ask Mark about Mark
'Mark' has nothing to say about that.

Nadia seems to recall your attention on the ankh. "Oh, I nearly forgot. This is yours." She takes the chain from her neck, unthreads the ankh and hands it to you. "Good-bye, Jack." Nadia turns and walks back into the crowd, 'Mark' in tow.

You'd considered throwing the thing away. But, of course you never did...
Everything melts away...

...and you find yourself back in your living room.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.
Inventory
You are carrying a cardboard carton, an ankh, a possum skin hat and the picture-frame.
You wear the ankh
There is no obvious way of putting it on. It has no chain.
Kiss melanie
"Get off, Jack. No time for that. Get going. It'll be dark soon."

Mel pushes you away.
Curse
[The story read that as "curses"].
Having vented your frustration, you feel a little better.
Xyzzy
Nothing happens.

Melanie looks at you impatiently.
You hit melanie
"I'm sorry about the picture. You know I don't like having my photo taken."

Violence is rarely the answer.
You ask Melanie about the smile
"I'm sorry about the picture. You know I don't like having my photo taken."
You ask Melanie about the waterfall
"This place is okay, I guess. I know it's special to you, but give me the city any day."
You look at your surroundings
You are carrying a day pack (which is closed).

Wooden deck (near the waterfall)
You stand on a wooden deck at the base of a waterfall. A walking track heads east to the car park. A narrower track leads north towards the top of the falls. Melanie is here with you.

Melanie is looking angry.
You look at Melanie
You open the day pack, revealing your camera and some sandwiches.

Melanie avoids your gaze and looks out over the rail towards the falls. She is frowning.
You look at falls
The waterfall is tall, narrow, and bordered by thick rainforest vegetation. The water cascades down two outcrops of mudstone into a shallow pool at the base. Below the observation deck the pool narrows into a swift-flowing stream running east.

"Well, go on then. Up you go. What are you waiting for?"

Melanie stamps her foot.
You give the sandwiches to Melanie
(first taking the sandwiches)
"I'm not that hungry right now," says Melanie. "Save them for later."
Go north
You hand Melanie the day pack, smile broadly, then turn and start towards the top of the falls. You're able to set a brisk pace initially but are forced to slow as the path narrows and becomes more steep and slippery. The last few metres are a scramble and you clutch at roots and ferns to gain purchase.

Once at the top, you inch your way out along a fallen log towards the edge of the falls and look down through the spray to the observation deck. You are about to wave, but Melanie is nowhere in sight.

Top of falls (on the log)
You stand precariously on a fallen log jutting out over the edge of the falls.
You look at the falls
It looks like a long way down from here.
You jump
Jumping from the top of the waterfall would certainly make a dramatic statement. But "of what", you are not sure.
You look at the log
The log is wide but slippery. It juts out over the edge of the falls.
Yell
[The story read that as "tell"].
I didn't understand that sentence.
You examine the deck
You can see the observation deck through the spray below. Melanie is no longer there.
You look at the forest
The rainforest is dark, still and damp. A canopy of giant myrtle-beeches and sassafras arches overhead, above leatherwoods and tree-ferns. Both the trunks of trees and the forest floor are covered in mosses and lichens. The rainforest floor is dappled with brightly coloured fungi. Undergrowth prevents you from straying far from the paths.
You jump
Jumping from the top of the waterfall would certainly make a dramatic statement. But "of what", you are not sure.
Inventory
You are carrying some sandwiches.
You cry
[The story read that as "c"].
(the sandwiches)
Nothing of interest occurs to you.
You eat the sandwiches
You eat the sandwiches. Not bad.
Look around
Top of falls (on the log)
You stand precariously on a fallen log jutting out over the edge of the falls.
Go downwards
You leave the log and scramble back down the path.

Wooden deck (near the waterfall)
You stand on a wooden deck at the base of a waterfall. A walking track heads east to the car park. A narrower track leads north towards the top of the falls. Melanie is no longer here.
You go east
As you start back along the path towards the car park you hear a rustle in the undergrowth nearby, and catch a quick glimpse of something moving away. You're out of breath by the time you catch up to Melanie, part way back along the track. She is crouched on one knee, examining the other, which seems to have been grazed.

"Hey, Melanie! What's happened? What have you done to yourself?" There is little sympathy in your voice.

Melanie looks up, startled. "What do you care, you bastard? Look at this," she gestures at her knee. "This is your fault. I was ready to go, Jack. And if you'd listened, I wouldn't have been scared half out of my wits. There was some creature back there, near the waterfall - in the bush. It charged out at me."

"It was a pademelon, Mel. I saw it."

"A what?"

"A pademelon. A wallaby."

"Look Jack, I don't care what it was. I'm a city girl, remember. At least in town if something jumps at me I've a fair idea what it is and what it's after. I've had enough of this bush shit for one day. Let's get back to the cottage, ok?"

You are on a walking track that leads east to the car park. Melanie is here, crouched on one knee. The day pack is on the ground beside her.
You examine the knee
The knee has a nasty graze.
You look in it
In the day pack is your camera.
You kiss knee
"Ouch! That hurts." Melanie winces. "Just help me up will you?"
You look at the fire
It's a pot-bellied wood stove. A fire blazes within and there is a supply of firewood beside it.
You examine the shadows
They are eerie.
You stand
You are already standing.
You go to the west
Living Room (West)
This area of your living room doubles as a kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.
Sleep
You can keep awake no longer.
But you know you can't go to bed until you've seen to the fire. So you drag yourself up from the bed, walk wearily to the wood stove and build up the fire before heading back to your bedroom. After climbing into bed you toss and turn for a while then settle into an uneasy sleep...
And in this sleep, you dream...
In your dream you are Akhnaten, the pharaoh of Nadia's fancy, standing on a sandy shore gazing out over dark waters. You are dressed in white robes, in your right hand is a flail, and in your left is a shepherd's crook. The night sky is a terrible serpent that slithers and uncoils above you, blood leaching from its foul skin into the waters of the East. There are four sealed jars laid out on the sand before you, and from your side come the guttural sounds, the snufflings and snarls, of some kind of animal, or worse. Reeds grow about you, wrapping themselves around your feet, tugging at your ankles.

But you know that you must not shift your gaze from the horizon, not at any cost.

You stand on a sandy shore, gazing out through darkness to the horizon in the East. There are four sealed jars set on the sand before you. Something is growling beside you, and reeds grow about your feet, wrapping themselves around your ankles.
You watch the horizon
You are watching the eastern horizon for Matet, the boat of Ra the sun god, that will take you to the afterlife. And not without some trepidation. With the benefit of hindsight you wonder at the wisdom, during your reign, of banning the worship of Ra and the rest of the panoply of Egyptian gods in favour of Aten, a single god of your own invention.

Then again, even pharaohs make mistakes.

How long must you wait? Surely, it can't be long now.
About yourself
You are wearing white robes and carrying a shepherd's crook and a flail.

You are becoming aware of a burning sensation in your chest.
You touch the chest
You drop the flail and reach beneath your robes with your right hand. You can feel the jagged edges of the flesh of your chest-wall, and beneath that, nothing, an empty cavity. This doesn't auger well for your meeting with Osiris (the weigher of hearts).
You touch the heart
Surely, morning must come soon...

You awake before dawn and lie in your bed in the dim half-light of early morning listening to the gentle spattering of sleet or snow against the windowpane. You are lying on your back with your arms folded across your chest. Normally, you sleep curled on your side, or sprawled on your stomach. You are also bathed in sweat.

Bedroom (on the bed)
This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
About yourself
You are 55 years old, but look (and feel) much older. You are wearing your coat.

Your stomach rumbles. There's no food in the house. Like it or not, you know you'll have to brave the cold today and go to the store to buy some supplies.
You feel yourself
If you think that'll help.
You pull the box
(the cardboard carton)
Nothing obvious happens.
You look under the bed
There is a metal box under your bed.
You take the roll
You take a roll of fifties.
Close box
(the metal box)
You close the metal box.
You put the roll in the pocket
You put the roll of $50 notes in your coat pocket.
Inventory
You are carrying a cardboard carton, an ankh, a possum skin hat and the picture-frame.
In a coat pocket you have a roll of $50 notes.
PUT ANKH, HAT, FRAME IN CARTON
ankh: Done.
possum skin hat: Done.
photograph: The photograph belongs on the mantel.
You drop the carton
You place the picture back on the mantel.
Dropped.
You go west
With barely a backwards glance at the photograph on the mantel, you step out of the door and onto the path. Fresh snow is beginning to settle on the gravel. It crunches under your feet as you walk, and dark clouds billow up over the mountain, obscuring the stars.

You are on the gravel path near your front door, which is to the east. The path leads north to your driveway and continues south to your yard. The trees of the surrounding forest come nearly to the edge of the path.
Go north
You are standing at the bottom of your driveway. The drive heads up to the northwest. Leading off the driveway to the south is a path that takes you around to the front of the house. Your old Landcruiser is parked here, near the house.
You enter the car
(the Landcruiser)
You get into the Landcruiser.
You examine the car
(the Landcruiser)
The inside of your Landcruiser is as tatty as the outside. The front seats are torn and dirty, and those of the rear have long since been removed altogether to give you more carrying capacity.
You drive
You'll have to say which compass direction to go in.
Go northwest
The Landcruiser coughs into life and in a shower of gravel, rattles on up towards the road, windscreen wipers waving noisily. At the top of your drive you turn and start the winding descent towards the store. As you drive you sit forward, hunched over the steering wheel, pot-holes jarring your craned neck as you struggle to make out the line of the road. The snow is falling more heavily now, making visibility poor.

Mountain road (in the Landcruiser)
You're heading south along a narrow stretch of the mountain summit road. This part of the road has been cut from the mountain-side. It has rocky cliffs rising on its western edge and drops away sharply into the forest to the east. The road here is badly corrugated, making driving difficult.
Go south
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a wallaby jumps onto the road in front of you, is caught briefly in the headlights and then is gone, in one bound, back into the bush. As you swerve to avoid it the Landcruiser leaves the road, coming to rest heavily in a ditch. You gun the engine and press the accelerator to the floor, a spray of yellow mud erupting from the wheel-arches as the vehicle slues further from the road.

For a while you sit rigid and unmoving in the cabin of the Toyota, then with a deep sigh, you kill the engine and relax your white-knuckled grip on the wheel. With resignation you begin to feel all tension and panic drain away, and with them, all resolve and sense of purpose. "Bloody wallaby," you mutter to yourself. You gaze absently at the criss-crossed patterns of ice forming in the arcs of the still screeching wiper-blades, and at the sleet and snow hitting the windscreen like glass bugs.
You examine the tree
It's a tall white gum tree.
You go outside
As you step from the Landcruiser you find yourself thankful for the fact that it is equipped with a winch.

You are standing near your Landcruiser. The vehicle rests precariously with one rear wheel in a ditch and the opposing front wheel high in the air. Near the Landcruiser, to the west, rises a cliff and on the opposite side of the road is a dirt verge. The gravel road heads back to the north, and leads on around the bend to the southwest. There is a tall white gum eucalypt growing on the verge.
Go southwest
It is too far to walk to the store from here.
You get the cable
You take the end of the winch cable.
You attach winch to the tree
Having attached the winch to the tree, you pull the four-wheel-drive free of the ditch. Then in a flurry of gravel and snow you continue down the road towards Timpson's store. You drive carefully, but still have to fight for grip on the ice and snow. By the time you swing into the small parking bay at the front of the store you're sweating profusely and your fingers ache from gripping the wheel. It would be well into the morning by now, but the weather has closed right in and it is still quite dark. The mountain slopes above you are completely obscured by clouds.

Outside Timpson's store (in the Landcruiser)
You are sitting in your Landcruiser parked at the front of Timpson's store which is to the west. The store is a somewhat dilapidated double-storey weatherboard building with a veranda, and an old advertising hoarding out the front. The shop itself is on the ground floor. Bill Timpson lives above it. The summit road heads back to the northeast and continues as a sealed road towards the small local township to the south.
You enter shop
(the store)
I don't think Bill Timpson would appreciate a ram-raid on his store. Perhaps you should get out of the four-wheel-drive first.
Go outside
You turn off the engine, jump from the Landcruiser, and quickly climb the two steps up to the front veranda of the shop. It's only when you get to the door that you notice the rough cardboard sign tacked to it.
You read the sign
The sign says, "CLOSED".

The wind whistles through the uprights of the veranda, whipping the falling snow into circles that dance at your feet as you stand staring at the sign. You feel your temper rising.
You look at the sign
The sign says, "CLOSED".
You knock on the door
(the front door)
You pound at the door, perhaps more vigorously than was necessary. Several moments later you hear the sound of a window being opened above you.

"Go, away! It's Sunday. We're closed." It's Timpson. In frustration, you pound the door again.

"Look, I mean it, whoever you are. Get lost. Now!...or I call the police."

You step back from the veranda and look up to the second-storey window where you see, glaring down at you, a tiny wisp of a man, dressed in pyjamas.

"Oh, it's you, Downer y'mad bugger. Well, we're closed. So you'd better go back to that mud hut of yours."
You tell him about the hunger
"I can't help you, Jack. It's Sunday. Go home."
You ask him about the grandpa
At the mention of your grandfather Timpson softens noticeably. He hesitates for a moment, then glances skywards, before saying, "Yeah okay, Jack. Just this once, for your granddad's sake. I owe him. But if you've damaged my door with all that banging, I'll take it outta ya hide. I'll be down in a minute." He steps back from the window, pulls it shut and draws the curtain. A short time later you hear the front door being unlocked and opened.
You go to the west
Timpson keeps a musty, old-style, general store. The place hasn't changed much since you first came here with your grandparents all those years ago. Then, he used to keep a sweet jar on the counter, and you wondered whether one day he might offer you one. But, of course, he never did. You somehow still feel like that child whenever you come here. The old man doesn't keep a lot of stock, but he generally has most of the basic food and hardware items you need. Timpson is standing behind the counter, still in his pyjamas.

"Well?" he asks.
You buy the food
You quickly select the supplies you need, pay for them with a couple of the fifties from the roll you carry in your coat pocket and turn to leave the store. As you reach the veranda with your bag of purchases you suddenly become disoriented, and falter in your step. For an instant your vision blurs and a wave of nausea sweeps over you. Beads of sweat form on your brow. Timpson comes out from behind his counter.

"You alright, Downer? You look as though you seen a ghost."

The feeling passes.

"Yeah, Bill. I'm fine. See you, Timpson." You step down from the veranda as Bill Timpson shakes his head, then closes and locks the door to his store.

You are at the front of Timpson's store which is to the west. The store is a somewhat dilapidated double-storey weatherboard building with a veranda, and an old advertising hoarding out the front. The shop itself is on the ground floor. Bill Timpson lives above it. There is a sign tacked to the front door (which is closed). The summit road heads back to the northeast and continues as a sealed road towards the small local township to the south. Your Landcruiser is parked nearby.
Inventory
You are carrying a large paper bag.
In a coat pocket you have a roll of $50 notes.
You eat the food
You think about getting something out of the bag and eating it on the spot, but then decide you should wait until you get into your house at least.
You enter car
(the Landcruiser)
You climb into the Landcruiser and put your supplies on the passenger's seat beside you.
You drive
You'll have to say which compass direction to go in.
You drive ne
The drive home is not going to be easy. You drive cautiously, at a crawl. Your progress is not only threatened by the weather, but by something else as well - you are having trouble maintaining your concentration, sweat from your palms loosens your grip on the wheel and there is a pounding in your head. You wonder if you might be going mad. Eventually you make it safely back to your driveway.

Bottom of driveway (in the Landcruiser)
You are sitting in your Landcruiser parked at the bottom of your driveway. The drive heads up to the northwest. Leading off the driveway to the south is a path that takes you round to the front of the house. Your bag of supplies is on the passenger's seat beside you.
You get the food
Taken.
Leave
You step from the vehicle with your bag of supplies. You are feeling very unwell.

You are standing at the bottom of your driveway. The drive heads up to the northwest. Leading off the driveway to the south is a path that takes you around to the front of the house. Your old Landcruiser is parked here, near the house.
You enter the house
The front door to the house is to the south.
You go south
You are on the gravel path near your front door, which is to the east. The path leads north to your driveway and continues south to your yard. The trees of the surrounding forest come nearly to the edge of the path.
You go east
As you enter the house you find yourself breathing heavily and fighting back fatigue. You put the bag of supplies down on the kitchen floor, then look towards the mantel and feel some composure return at the sight of the photograph sitting there. But you quickly begin to feel uneasy. Something about the photograph isn't right.

Living Room (West)
This area of your living room doubles as a kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.

There's a bag of supplies on the floor near the door.
You go to the east
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

There is a cardboard carton here.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window. On the mantel you see a photograph.
You look at the picture
You take the frame in both hands, then as you stand there your hands begin to tremble, sweat pours into your eyes and your mind is numbed by the clamour of your racing heart and the rattle in your chest. You stare in disbelief at the photograph, rub the sweat and tears from your eyes with your sleeve, then look again - at the smile.

With a grimy, callused finger you prod the picture trying to wipe away the smile on Melanie's face, that small nervous smile of relief so often recalled in your memory, the smile that you know can not be there, because it happened after the picture was taken. But the smile is not the only change in the photograph. You can also see your own arm reaching towards the camera.
You look at the arm
In horror, you drop the photograph, the frame smashing on contact with the floor, then you back away towards the bedroom. Lying in a foetal position, your body heaving, you fall into a long, deep dreamless sleep - the sleep of the dead...
You press the space
The discovery of the photograph had been largely fortuitous. Some time after the onset of your depression, you had been sitting in your armchair feeling choked by the clutter that surrounded you and had resolved to do something about it. Your clean up began with a dust covered cardboard box of old possessions from before your return to the mountain, and that was as far as you got. As you went through the contents of the box you came across a number of photographs scattered loose, among them the photo of Melanie and yourself at the waterfall. For a moment you had trouble recalling the photograph, where it had been taken, and even who the girl was that you were with. Then you remembered, and were instantly overwhelmed by feelings of melancholy and nostalgia. It was an almost palpable experience, like breaking open an exotic fruit and being immersed in the smell of its rich fleshy pulp - sickly sweet, but turning at the core. The scene in the photograph, which you had barely given a thought for years, was instantly transformed into a pivotal moment; while only one point in the millions that had made up your life, for you it became the critical one, the point where your life had started to go wrong.
You made a frame for the photograph, and set it in a prominent position on the mantel. Over the following months you became more and more drawn to the picture, spent increasing amounts of time looking at it, running the frame through your hands, and running the events of that day and evening through your mind, thinking about how they might have been different. In time, you came to reinterpret everything that had happened before the day of the photograph as preparation for that moment and everything after as a mistake. Your waking hours were spent striving to regain the moment, and set it to rights in your mind. The world and your needs within it paled into insignificance, were merely inconvenient distractions from your true focus. And you became increasingly frustrated by the fact that with each passing hour you were a little further from the only junction in your life that had mattered, the only point where you could have put your life back on track...

You open your eyes to find that you are once more lying on your back, feet together with arms folded across your chest. It is daylight and bright. You can hear the calls of birds outside. You feel strangely calm and rested, your breath coming easily and without pain. Even your hunger has abated. You have not forgotten the photograph lying in its shattered frame in the next room, but you don't feel pressed to do anything about it. There is no rush.

A huntsman spider crawls along the beam above your head, towards a fly at the opposite end. The fly is caught in the strand of another spider's web, and it spins noisily and stupidly, like a fish on a hook. You are resigned to the fly's fate well before it is, and look away no longer interested before the spider reaches it.

Bedroom (on the bed)
This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
You check what you're carrying
You are carrying nothing, but in a coat pocket you have a roll of $50 notes.
You get up
As you climb out of bed, you feel well in yourself but your movements seem impeded, as though the air around you had taken on a viscous quality - not requiring any extra effort to move through but somehow slowing your progress nonetheless.

This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
You go to the south
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

The picture-frame is lying broken on the floor.

There is a cardboard carton here.
You look at the photo
Taking care to avoid the broken glass you bend down to look at the photograph. You brace yourself for what you might see, anticipating that your heart may skip a beat. The smile is still there, although it is different, the angle of Melanie's head having altered. And there in your right hand is your camera that the German tourist used to take the shot.
You take the photo
Carefully avoiding the broken glass you bend down and pick up the picture-frame. While the glass has shattered and the frame itself is broken, you realise that they would be repairable.
You examine melanie
Melanie is smiling.
You examine Jack
A fool, clearly.
You look at your surroundings
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.
You examine photo
The smile is still there, although it is different, the angle of Melanie's head having altered. And there in your right hand is your camera that the German tourist used to take the shot.
You examine the hat
The hat is made from possum skin.
You listen
You hear birds singing.
You stand
You get out of the armchair.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.
Go outside
(first opening the back door)

You are on a wooden balcony that looks out over a river valley. An open door to the west leads back into the house. The ground beneath the balcony is covered with snow, but it is a bright sunny day.
You examine tree
(the tree)
It's a tall blue gum eucalyptus tree.
You check your inventory
You are carrying the picture-frame (which is broken).
In a coat pocket you have a roll of $50 notes.
You take the photo
You already have that.
You look at the frame
(the photograph)
The smile is still there, although it is different, the angle of Melanie's head having altered. And there in your right hand is your camera that the German tourist used to take the shot.
Tear photo
[The story read that as "eat photo"].
That's plainly inedible.
Go west
Living Room (West)
This area of your living room doubles as a kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.

There's a bag of supplies on the floor near the door.
Cook
What do you want to cook?
You cook food
You have other things on your mind at present.
You eat food
You are quite hungry, but there's no rush. You're content to wait until after you've repaired the picture-frame.
You fix the frame
(the photograph)
There is nothing here to repair it with.
You search the clutter
You'd never be able to find anything amongst this junk.
Empty bag
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.

You see no bag here.
You search clutter
You rummage around in the junk for a while. But you find nothing of interest.
You go to the south
Yard (West)
You are in the yard that runs along the side of the house. It's a rough, steep bush block, and scattered about are the rusting carcasses of motorbikes, broken machinery and other past follies. The yard slopes down to the east and the path leading to the front door is to the north. There is a thick covering of snow on the ground.
Go east
Yard (East)
You are in the yard that runs along the side of the house. It's a rough, steep bush block, and scattered about are the rusting carcasses of motorbikes, broken machinery and other past follies. The yard falls away very sharply further to the east. To the north is the door to your workshop which is under the house, and the yard extends back to the west. There is a thick covering of snow on the ground.
You go east
The slope to the east is steep and slippery. You don't feel inclined to go down there right now.
Go north
(first opening the workshop door)

Your workshop has an old wooden workbench, paint spattered and generally well used. The walls and almost every surface of the room are covered with tools, tins and containers. There is a single grimy window near the only exit, which is to the south.
You look at the bench
It's a large solid wooden workbench, that is covered with spatters of paint and other scars of past work. It was on this bench that you made the frame for the photograph.
You examine the tools
The workshop is full of tools of every size and type. Many are hung from the walls on wire hooks.
You fix the frame
(the photograph)
You put the frame down on the workbench and get the tools you'll need. Having selected your tools, you begin by removing the remaining shards from the picture-frame, then you carefully fix the joins in the wood of the frame and cut and fit a new piece of glass.
Repair frame
As you work you glance at the photo, trying to discern movement in the scene. While not noticing any changes in the picture as you watch it, you find that after looking away to get a piece of glass or a tool and returning to the scene there seem to be minute differences in detail in the spray from the waterfall, the refraction of light through the trees, or the features or posture of Melanie and yourself.

You work slowly, wanting to make it as good as it was, and when finished you put away your tools and pick up the restored frame.

(the photograph)
You have already mended the picture-frame.
Go south
Yard (East)
You are in the yard that runs along the side of the house. It's a rough, steep bush block, and scattered about are the rusting carcasses of motorbikes, broken machinery and other past follies. The yard falls away very sharply further to the east. To the north is the door to your workshop which is under the house, and the yard extends back to the west. There is a thick covering of snow on the ground.
You cook the food
You take what you need from the bag of supplies and prepare a good solid breakfast, your first decent meal in weeks. You feel relaxed and in control as you prepare, then eat your meal. You feel as though you've been relieved of all your worries. Your approach to the activities of the day has been unhurried, and conducted with a degree of ceremony, as though in deference to fate. You really feel like Nadia's Egyptian king, with your final die cast and with organs safely tucked into jars, awaiting the arrival of the boat of Ra.

You finish your meal and pick up the photograph. The changes in the scene have now become obvious - your head is fully turned towards the waterfall and your left arm is extended, pointing towards the top of the falls, while the smile on Melanie's face has gone, replaced by the beginnings of a frown.
You look at photograph
(the photograph)
In the photograph, you are now standing with your left arm pointing towards the waterfall. Melanie has begun to frown.
You look at the frown
Melanie is frowning.
You put the frame on the mantel
(the photograph on the mantel)
You don't want to let the photograph out of your grasp right now.
You sit
You sit back in your armchair.

You're becoming increasingly conscious of an odour of stale sweat from your clothes.
You stand
You get out of the armchair.

Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.
Go west
Living Room (West)
This area of your living room doubles as a kitchen. There is a small sink here, a gas stove, refrigerator and a cupboard. Your bathroom is to the north and a door to the west leads outside.

There's a bag of supplies on the floor near the door.
You take the shower
[The story read that as "take her"].
You can't see "her" (Melanie) at the moment.
You look at the fire
It's a pot-bellied wood stove. The fire has almost burned out. There is a supply of firewood beside it.
You tend fire
[The story read that as "mend fire"].
That is not in need of repair.
You take the firewood
You take the firewood, set the fire then close the stove and sit back in the armchair with the photograph.

Throughout the rest of the day you sit there following the couple's slow progress back along the track. You afford yourself a wry chuckle as the startled pademelon bounds across the path in front of them - Melanie jumping and the boy comforting her, then their laughter at the episode. You can almost feel the shape of her through her clothes, the sparkle and comfort of her presence beside you. The rate of change in the photograph has increased steadily through the day, more a slow motion movie than portrait by day's end.

While it is hard to drag yourself away, in time you find yourself too tired to go on watching the scene.

Living Room (East) (in the armchair)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window.

There is a cardboard carton here.
You examine photo
The scene in the photo continues to unfold. But you are now too tired to follow it.
Sleep
You get up from your bed and put the photograph on the mantel. Then you close the balcony and front doors, before heading back to your bed. You sleep fitfully. While awake you toss and turn, noticing the increasing lag in your movements and feeling like an insect caught in a web or trapped in hardening resin. But you understand the reason for this feeling, and are not concerned. The one thing that does concern you is missing something in the developing scene in the next room, and so you leave your bed well before dawn.

This is your bedroom. The only furnishings are a wardrobe and your bed. There is a window facing north and the living room is to the south.
You go south
Living Room (East)
Your living room is full of clutter. Your armchair is here in front of the wood stove. A doorway to the north leads to your bedroom and the living area continues west. The back door is to the east.

An old pine mantel leans against the wall near the window. On the mantel you see a photograph.

There is a cardboard carton here.
You look at the photo
You take the photograph, sit back down in the armchair and look to the scene in the picture.

Melanie and your younger self are eating a meal in the cottage. You watch every mouthful of food as it leaves the plate to their mouths, then the empty forks return to the plate, and you see Melanie's inquiring gaze well before it is noticed by the boy. Then you smile to yourself as the boy looks up into those big dark eyes you know he must drown in, and follows the girl to the bedroom. As voyeur you are with them as they make love, and afterwards you watch them talk in soft tones and laugh at shared jokes as they lie in each other's arms. By the time they are packing the car ready to return to town the scene in the picture is changing at life speed, and you feel as though you are there as they chat and joke on the journey in the car. You tense as they approach a forested turn, anticipating the screech of brakes and thud of impact, but then relax as they round the bend without incident. The pace of the unfolding scene continues to increase. And as the world in the photograph gains momentum you are increasingly aware of things around you slowing down. You have no difficulty in following the couple's return to the city, the boy moving in with Melanie, and something of their first days of living together. While the scene is soon moving too quickly to follow, you know what will happen. You know that you will stay in your legal practice, that you and Melanie will have children, that your lives together will be happy. You have been there many times in your mind and don't need the visual confirmation.
The photograph is now only a blur, a rectangle of unrelieved white, and you sit staring and motionless before it, as though embedded in a world of amber...
Epilogue
Heather Downer regretted that she had never really got to know her father, and now of course it was too late. It had been two weeks since his death and still she hadn't cried. She knew she should feel guilty, but somehow was more angry that he had chosen her eighteenth birthday as the day to have a massive cardiac arrest. She was also angry that all chance had now gone for him to make up for those broken promises; of getting back from work in time to help with her homework, or of spending some time with her, or just showing some interest in her life. Instead he had spent all his time working himself into an early grave at age forty-two. Heather sat cross-legged on the floor, helping her mother sort through her dad's things. She had before her a cardboard box of some of his older possessions, childhood books, photos, a tennis racquet, and was saddened to think that he once had a life like anybody else's, with interests and hobbies. If only things could have been different. She brushed away strands of her long black hair that had fallen forward into her eyes, and a tear with them.

"Hey, mum. Who's this old wrinkly?"

Melanie Downer was on the other side of the room and came across to look at the framed photograph in her daughter's hand. "I don't know, dear. Perhaps it was a relative of your father's. I can certainly see a resemblance. Although, I don't remember Jack ever talking about having close family."

"A relative? Do you think so? Look at the way he's sitting there in that disgusting old chair, with all that junk everywhere, just staring like that. It gives me the creeps. I don't want it in the house. Can I toss it?"

"I suppose so, we can't keep all his things. It's a nice frame though, Baltic pine by the look of it. Keep that. You can put the photograph over there with his appendix. I don't know why he kept that either," Melanie said pointing to a jar containing a small shrivelled object. "They can go out together."

...and await the arrival of the boat of Ra.