text: [Themes: Lovecraftian, Comedy, horror, Lovecraft]
  
  > Look around
  Estate Agent's Office (Jenni Polodna)
  The space is dominated by the unexpectedly symbiotic combination of a giant desk and a tiny woman, who together give the impression of being one complete single entity, like a centaur. The surface of the desk is invisible underneath a loose pile of glossy architectural magazines, manila folders, and real estate listings pamphlets. Behind it, a gunmetal-grey filing cabinet lurks unattractively in the far corner. The exit back out to the street is east.
  
  Bethany looks at you expectantly. "Want to know about a building?"
  
  > examine the filing cabinet
  If a filing cabinet's purpose is to hold files without being otherwise interesting or remarkable, then this one has achieved self-actualization and is free to ascend to filing cabinet nirvana.
  
  > read the lion sex
  person you've stolen them from, who hasn't noticed you've stolen them yet. That's the kind of doof-butt mistake your husband would
  make.
  
  God, you hope he's okay.
  
  The chill behind you intensifies, and you feel like you're being watched.
  
  > look at the chill
  A chill emanates from behind you, fading as you turn.
  
  > ask her about the chill
  (Bethany about the faint chill)
  "I'm sorry," Bethany says, "I have auditory processing disorder, and I'm guessing you didn't really just say 'breaking up with Frito chili pie'.
  
  > go east
  A short street terminates here. To the south it opens into the town square. To the east, a few worn steps rise to the entrance of the public library, and to the west you can see a real estate office. A gloomy path leads northwest, towards the woods.
  
  You can see a notice board here.
  
  > read the lion sex
  You look at the inside cover of the paperback. The library insignia, a pair of back-to-back crescent moons flanking an eye which stares down at a book, is stamped here in purple. Underneath, in cursive, someone has written "For Mona with all the love in the world. Don't take Jim back. He's bad news." Following this is a loopy flourish of a signature you take to be "Leelah Vaughan."
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  1/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  (You flip open the lion sex novel and read a page at random.)
  
  "You're leaving? Now? I don't understa--" She held her hands
  up to protest, but instead found herself clutching the manuscript-sized envelope he pressed into her chest.
  
  His voice was low and urgent in her ear, forcing a shiver to the base of her spine. "There's no time to explain. Keep this safe. If you believe in me, we'll see each other again."
  
  "Hey, wait up now!" she called after him as he rounded the bend in the stairs. "The hell you going, Steve?" The door closed with a self-assured thump, and she was alone.
  
  A few moments later, back in her office, she pulled the manuscript out of its envelope. It was thick; several hundred pages at least. Scrawled across the first was a simple four-word message: "THEY CAN'T SEE STORIES."
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  2/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  (You skim ahead a little bit in your lion sex book and find the
  next interesting bit.)
  
  One fierce blow from his assailant sent his flintlock pistol clattering onto the cobblestones. A second blow, this one to his gut, knocked the wind out of him and doubled him over. "This is it," he thought, "this is how I die, bludgeoned like a gopher by a third-rate murderer in the alleyways of 1890s London."
  
  Just then, a mysterious interloper appeared from among the shadows to brain his attacker with a lead pipe, dropping the tough to the ground without so much as a grunt. Nodding in satisfaction, she pushed her gear-encrusted goggles to the top of her head. "Can't say I'm too impressed with this time period," she told him. "It's got sanitation problems for real."
  
  "Portia?" Steve gaped at her like a puzzled fish. "What are you doing here?"
  
  She pulled a manuscript-sized envelope out of her cloak and waved it at him. "I believe in you," she said, "and that's important for our relationship, but what's important for our lives right now is
  that we run like hell."
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  3/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  (You open the lion sex book somewhere in the middle and read an excerpt.)
  
  Portia jumped away from him so hard that she almost fell backwards over the fainting couch. "Steve!" she exclaimed. "You're a lion!"
  
  "I've always been a lion," he explained. "I just deactivated the field that keeps people from noticing I'm a lion."
  
  Portia's voice became a plaintive wail. "The hell, Steve? You had sex with me, I had sex with you, and you were a lion this whole
  damn time? The whole time!"
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  4/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  (You continue reading the lion sex book right about where you left off.)
  
  "I had lion dick in me?" Portia's voice was becoming dangerously loud, and Steve glanced nervously at the Viscount, to make sure the drugs had not yet worn off. "Those things have barbs, Steve!"
  
  "Portia. Calm down. You would know if my dick had barbs."
  
  "My mama raised purebred cats, Steve, I have seen some crap, all right? I have seen some crap."
  
  Grimly, Steve removed his pants. "Here. I'll prove it to you."
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  5/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  The next approximately eighty-seven pages are all lion sex. All of them. All of it.
  
  [You can continue to READ the lion sex book; this is excerpt
  6/7.]
  
  > read the lion sex
  You flip to the very end of the lion sex book [spoilers]. It ends with Steve and Portia retiring to a stable time loop somewhere on Approximate Earth to raise their half-lion (and quarter-dolphin? when did that happen?) kids.
  
  Just inside the back cover, someone has written: "BJIYO -- SIX TIF J MOXXMD NIYDXLOBS WHIY XLD CFHOI NLIG. CLDCE XLD LOKKDB GICEDX IW TIFH AJCEGJCE. BIU SI SDX TIFH YJB, SOHM! O SIX YOBD JBK UD'HD KIOBS SHDJX. (LD NJTN LO & SIIK MFCE.) MIQD, JFBXOD NXDMMJ"
  
  [This is the end of the lion sex book, but you can READ it again
  to start over from the beginning.]
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  Twin Hearts Between the Planes
  a pamphlet of home listings
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a key pocket (open but empty)
  a book pocket (open but empty)
  a side pocket (open but empty)
  a trash pocket (open but empty)
  a backpack features guide
  a book list
  a library card
  Peter's jacket
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  a faint chill (haunting you)
  a cast iron spire
  a waterproof flashlight
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  a postcard of Big Ben
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  a pull-string doll
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a brass winding key
  
  > examine the Hearts
  A somewhat battered paperback whose lovingly fantasy-painted cover features a corseted steampunk woman embracing a Regency period nobleman -- who is also an anthropomorphic lion -- in space. "TWIN HEARTS BETWEEN THE PLANES," raised letters proclaim. "LEELAH VAUGHAN."
  
  Beneath the author's name, smaller text inside a sunburst informs you that this book was a 1981 Venus Rising nominee for "Best Sexual Tension." A shelving label for the Backwater Public Library covers the lower spine "[FIC / ERO / ANIMA / FELIS / YIKES]".
  
  Frost lines the edges of the library insignia.
  
  > examine the hidden pocket
  You feel around inside the backpack until you find the zipper pull cleverly disguised as a loose piece of thread. This must be a hidden pocket!
  
  > look in the hidden pocket
  You unzip the hidden pocket just enough to take a peek inside. It contains a trolley pass and a trolley schedule.
  
  > take the schedule
  That's hardly portable.
  
  > open the hidden pocket
  You open the hidden pocket, revealing a trolley pass and a trolley schedule.
  
  > take the schedule
  (the trolley schedule)
  Taken.
  
  > examine the PASS
  A small blue piece of laminated cardboard that says "BACKWATER TROLLEY MONTHLY PASS" in tidy serif font, with a yellow rope lanyard for you to hang it around your neck. You pray to any gods listening that you and Peter will be on a faraway beach together by the time the pass expires.
  
  > examine schedule
  (the trolley schedule)
  It's unlike any public transit schedule you've ever seen, in that there are no times listed. A cheerfully phrased block of introduction text instructs riders to hang their passes around their necks, proceed to a trolley stop, and WAIT FOR whatever color LINE corresponds with their choice of destination. Well okay then.
  
  Destinations:
  Brown Line -- Train Station
  Gold Line -- Church
  Blue Line -- Library Square
  
  > wear the PASS
  You put on the trolley pass.
  
  > go northwest
  Shack Exterior (Michael Lin)
  You enter a clearing, the earth barren and the air heavy with mist. A low windowless wooden shack dominates the area. Sitting by the shack is a wooden painted doll, clockwork mechanisms visible in its joints. It's startlingly lifelike.
  
  The woods are to the northwest, while that godforsaken town is to the southeast.
  
  On the ground, just out of the doll's reach, lie some loose scraps of paper.
  
  > Examine scraps
  Three scraps of paper, with various handwritten words on them. You can't read the contents from here.
  
  > read the scraps
  Three scraps of paper, with various handwritten words on them. You suspect that they may form a complete page if you reassemble them.
  
  > reassemble the scraps
  With some experimentation, you rearrange the pieces back into a single page. They seal together, as if by magic. You now hold a repaired page.
  
  > Examine page
  A complete page, grimy yet strangely untorn. It reads: "I must have rest. My senses deceive me into thinking she can see me, hear me."
  
  > look at the doll
  (the clockwork doll)
  A little doll of a girl. She's sitting at a little writing desk, with a book in front of her, firmly held underneath her arms. In one hand is a feather quill pen; at the other is an inkwell. Her eyes seem to bore through your pocket to where you're keeping the page. As if she wants to see what's written there.
  
  > About you
  Apart from a touch of the heebie-jeebies, you feel fine.
  
  > check what you're carrying
  You are carrying:
  a repaired page
  a trolley schedule
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  Twin Hearts Between the Planes
  a pamphlet of home listings
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (open but empty)
  a book pocket (open but empty)
  a side pocket (open but empty)
  a trash pocket (open but empty)
  a backpack features guide
  a book list
  a library card
  Peter's jacket
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  a faint chill (haunting you)
  a cast iron spire
  a waterproof flashlight
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  a postcard of Big Ben
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  a pull-string doll
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a brass winding key
  
  > show the page to the doll
  (the clockwork doll)
  The doll springs to life with the whirring of hidden gears and mechanisms. Her eyes dart between the page and the book in front of her. Her quill moves from inkwell to paper and back again, copying the page's contents into the book. Finishing the passage with a terminal stroke of the pen, the doll's shoulders move up, then down, as if taking a breath. Her open hand clumsily raises one cover and pushes it over, closing the book.
  
  She pushes it in your direction until it tumbles to the ground.
  
  > take BOOK
  (The Dollmaker's Journal)
  Taken.
  The doll begins to shudder and glow with heat. After a moment, the shaking stops, and the doll's head and hands sag, lifeless.
  
  > Examine book
  Which do you mean, The Dollmaker's Journal, Twin Hearts
  Between the Planes, The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three, the diary of Phyllis Cragne or the postcard of Big Ben?
  
  > look at Dollmaker'S
  A simple leatherbound journal, daubed with wayward paint splotches. A sticker on the cover bears the insignia of the Backwater Public Library.
  
  > put the books in the book pocket
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three: Done.
  diary of Phyllis Cragne: Done.
  postcard of Big Ben: Done.