text: > look around
  The room is of uniform whiteness, and far too bright. The air
  tastes odd; perhaps it is the lack of any detectable odors that makes it strange.
  
  There are three floating shapes and a large green button in the floor. You see a yellow sphere on the left, a yellow sphere in the middle, and a blue pyramid on the right here.
  
  > turn left
  You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from yellow to blue.
  
  > turn left
  You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.
  
  You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from red to yellow.
  
  > turn left
  You grab the floating sphere and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.
  
  > press the button
  A green spot, a red spot, and a black spot twirl into existence. They dance about your head for a moment, and then spin out of sight.
  
  > look at the shape
  Which shape do you mean, the red sphere on the left, the yellow sphere in the middle, or the blue pyramid on the right?
  
  > turn blue
  You grab the floating pyramid and turn it. It seems to click into place, changing the color from blue to red.
  
  > Exit
  You step through the door, which promptly disappears. It takes you a few seconds to adjust to the scene around you. Eventually, the message gets through to your brain that something is terribly, terribly wrong.
  
  You are on the top of the hill just south of your house, surrounded
  by trees and spring-time air. The familiar path beneath your feet leads south, just like it always has. A thick fog in the distance obscures a normally beautiful view of the surrounding hilltops. There's something subtly wrong with the whole situation, but you can't quite put your finger on it-- something about the trees.
  
  > look at the trees
  You stare at the trees for a long time before you realize what's wrong. Even though the surface of the trees looks rough, their edges are perfectly smooth. It's as though someone took a smooth cylinder and pasted a picture of rough bark on top of it.
  
  As you get caught up in this discovery, you almost fail to notice the initials carved into one of the prominent trees near the path. A tree that you don't remember at all.
  
  > look at the initials
  This tree stands precisely on the spot where your thinking stump should be. As you look at the tree, and the initials carved in it, you can almost feel a glimmer of recognition in the back of your mind, but you're still too befuddled by the loss of your stump. Worse yet, there's no good place to sit and think about this.
  
  > read the initials
  The initials are the classic lovers pair, wrapped in a heart:
  
  P. K.
  +
  E. M.
  
  Peter Knott and Esther Minnow. Mom and Dad. The ten year old memory pushes its way to the front of your mind: Mom tearfully packing her few things, Dad alternately yelling at her and pleading with her. It wasn't until Aunt Betty picked her up and they drove out of sight that it really hit Dad. He took an axe out the back door and attacked the tree that had witnessed his proposal to her. It was a thick tree. Curses and saliva kept flying out of his mouth in an almost constant stream as he kept chopping. You couldn't bear to watch him and took a long walk through the woods, but it didn't help. The relentless chopping echoed off of the hilltop like rifle fire. It was a couple hours later that you heard the tree fall.
  
  After he went to the asylum, you sawed off all of the splinters and turned the stump into a seat. Now, amazingly, it's a tree once again-- initials and all.
  
  > listen
  You stand still and carefully listen to the woods. No birds are singing, no leaves are rustling. The trees are still and silent.
  
  > go north
  The building to the north looks far too good to be your house. It sports new aluminum siding and shingles; the screen door is in place and freshly painted. Off to the northwest, the garden is an explosion of color. The path through the woods leads back south.
  
  > go to the northwest
  The garden that you let go to weed is flourishing here. Tulips add color to the first greens of the vegetables pushing up through the ground. The well is here, surrounded by flowers. The front of the house is to the northeast and the back is to the southeast.
  You see a broken hoe here.
  
  > examine the hoe
  It is painfully obvious that the hoe is broken beyond repair. The break in the middle of the handle is completely smooth; it looks sawed through, not broken.
  
  > take the hoe
  Taken.
  
  > Go north
  The screen door doesn't even squeak. Amazing.
  
  The kitchen is just as small as you remember, but completely renovated, just like the outside of the house. The appliances and the linolium on the floor are new. There's a space-saving microwave oven installed above the range.
  
  > Go north
  Your eyes try to take stock of the familiar-yet-not living room, but they are instead immediately drawn to the figure on the couch, who rises and walks toward you, hand extended. "Isaiah! You're here!
  Let me have a look at you!"
  
  Your brain reels. It's your father, looking exactly like he did before he went insane ten years ago.
  
  "You've really grown up, huh? Having to take care of your mom these past couple months? Well, now that they've got you too, maybe this testing will go faster. They'll take us home soon. Have a seat." He resumes his place on the couch.
  
  Click.
  
  > talk to Dad
  You try to make a little polite conversation, but with a ten-year gulf and who knows what else between you, awkward silences dominate your conversation. Soon you give up.
  
  Click.
  
  > listen
  You listen carefully for the noise, and eventually determine that it's coming from your dad. You watch him attentively, and see that the noise happens when he blinks. It's kind of like the clicking of a camera shutter.
  
  Click.
  
  > examine dad
  Your father's face is a memory come true. He is almost precisely the man taken to the asylum ten years ago-- except his eyes have lost their spark. He looks complacent and lifeless.
  
  Click.
  
  > look at the hoe
  It is painfully obvious that the hoe is broken beyond repair. The break in the middle of the handle is completely smooth; it looks sawed through, not broken.
  
  Click.
  
  > go north
  With all the other changes, it really shouldn't bother you that the front door works and leads down nice concrete steps to the yard and driveway. It gives you the willies anyway.
  
  The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
  as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
  You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
  
  > examine Pontiac
  The old, familiar Pontiac sits in the driveway. It looks to be in pretty good shape, considering you sold it to the scrap yard four years ago. The keys are in the ignition.
  
  > Go south
  The living room is tastefully decorated. Plush wall-to-wall
  carpeting soothes your feet while your eyes marvel at the new sofa and coffee table. The wood-burning stove is the only real reminder of the house you live in. The front door to the north opens out on the driveway, the sparkly new kitchen is to the south, and the bedroom is west.
  Your dad is sitting on the couch.
  
  Click.
  
  > kill Dad with the hoe
  You grapple with your father, who pushes who back with incredible strength. "What the hell was that for?"
  
  Click.
  
  > Go north
  The lawn is freshly mowed, the north side of the house looks just
  as good as the south side, and off to the southwest, the garden is a prize winner.
  You see a big, blue Pontiac here.
  
  > enter the car
  You'll have to get out of the big, blue Pontiac first.
  
  > drive
  that seems like the best place to go. It doesn't take long for you to realize that you don't have a choice. The view of the road in front of you is unobstructed, but about fifty feet off the road on either side is a thick, opaque fog. You turn off on one of the side streets, thinking, "It's only fog." When the car pushes into the fog, you literally cannot see anything beyond the car itself. You nudge the car forward at about five miles per hour, and eventually see a trace of road in front of you. With your eyes fixed on the line down the middle of the road, you slowly accelerate until the fog starts to lift. Looking up, you see that you're back on the road heading into town.
  
  Resignedly, you follow the road into town. If you were expecting
  to be comforted by the sight of other people, you remain unconsoled. No one else is driving on the streets, no one is out walking. The few houses brave enough to stick out of the fog are all dark and silent. The marked path of road comes to a stop right in front of Pop's market. You park in the prime two-hour spot right in front of the store. There doesn't seem to be a lot of competition for it.