text: [Themes: female protagonist, Lovecraft, Comedy]
  
  > Look around
  Circular Room (JP)
  You walk into a circular, high-ceilinged room made of roughly-shaped gray stones. This room really looks like a capped well, but its location in the building suggests otherwise.
  
  > pull the string
  The doll intones: "Shun the stones! Grey is the tint of that which is already beyond recovery!"
  
  > Go upwards
  The Old Well (Reed Lockwood)
  The trees here gather, black with wet; glimmering fingers hung with ragged matter, huddling beneath a cold and gently weeping sky. Beneath your feet, the damp red felt of rotting leaves slopes down toward a still, murky puddle. Nearby is a well, a ragged, gaping hole in the earth. A broken-down section of brick wall waits for raindrops to fall along its spine, and an old, half-dead oak straddles an angular boulder studded with quartz. A path through the forest leads south.
  
  You can see a golden eyepiece (smelling faintly of mildew), a comfy snake, a colorful bird, a polyphonic ungulate and a wooden sigil here.
  
  A phantom trolley stop sign reads Green Line -- The Woods.
  
  > wait for the aqua Line
  You lean against the pink arch, hold out your pass, and wait for the aqua line. Within moments, a noncorporeal trolley arrives. Instead of stopping and allowing you to board, it passes through you,
  and you find yourself transported to
  
  River Walk (Adam Whybray)
  A dirt path along the west bank of the Makaskuta - or Blackgourd - River. The air is motionless and sweltry, the urticariate heat drawing sweat profusely from your prickling glands.
  
  Just below you, to your side, the river burbles in vainglorious stupor, foaming in bright patches from the surfacants released from the rotting deposits of the red maples and poplars that line its banks. A single black ash, denuded of leaves, its corky bark blighted with the telltale signs of parasitic infection, quietly interrupts the Autumnal foliage of its deciduous cousins.
  
  The river's waters slith over rocks as lustrous-gray as seal skin, rending them freshly burnished for the mid-September sun, which casts Her rays in refulgent slats through the rust-honey colored trees. It is though Nature, in celebration of Her own fecundity, has chosen to offer Herself up in Equinoxical sacrifice - the rocks laid out before the blazing altar of the sun.
  
  There is a forbidding sign on the bank of the river.
  
  The way up to Backwater town square is northwest. Following the path north leads under the bridge.
  
  On the Makaskuta river is a buoy.
  
  You can also see a freshwater lobster trap (in which is an eggbound crawfish) and a shattered crawfish here.
  
  A phantom trolley stop sign reads Aqua Line -- River Walk.
  
  > examine coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a blooming rose. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > look at the hatch
  The humidity of the river has rusted the hatch to the color of dried blood, like an old scab on the embankment. Seemingly of the same vintage as the bridge, it lacks any modern logo, markings, or even a handle, though there is an odd rectangular indentation along one edge.
  
  > examine the indentation
  The indentation in the hatch is a little over an inch long, about half as wide, and seems too shallow to make a good handle, even if it didn't look like a jagged-edged tetanus-shot-waiting-to-happen... Which, for the record, it does.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a wad of cash
  some mildewed leather gloves
  a spray bottle that used to contain fungicide
  a hefty, rust-streaked iron key
  a rusty flathead screwdriver
  a pair of garden shears (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a gallon jug of white vinegar
  a key from an urn
  a copper urn (smelling faintly of mildew) (closed)
  a bronze urn (closed)
  Tolerating An Asinine God
  a black business card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trophy for a dog race
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a glass shard
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  an antique locket (closed)
  a backpack features guide
  The Modern Girl's Divination Handbook -- Volume Three
  the diary of Phyllis Cragne
  a postcard of Big Ben (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (closed)
  a book pocket (open but empty)
  a side pocket (closed)
  a trash pocket (closed)
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  a familiar gold wristwatch
  a glass jar containing an insect
  a pull-string doll (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a waterproof flashlight (smelling faintly of mildew)
  The Dollmaker's Journal
  a repaired page (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a moldy, waterlogged journal
  Twin Hearts Between the Planes
  a trolley schedule (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a grimy rock (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a long hooked pole
  a soggy tome
  a book list
  an employee ID card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a shard of shattered carapace (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some yellowed newspapers
  a rusty piece of metal
  loose bricks
  a pamphlet of home listings (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a hovering spark (haunting you)
  
  > unlock hatch with the iron key
  At first you have some doubts, but with some coaxing, but the key (more or less) fits into the indentation in the hatch.
  
  You give the key a good solid twist to the left, but it squeals to a stop after a quarter-turn, jammed in place.
  
  > continue
  You give it a good heave, this time with both hands, but the key may as well be welded to the hatch.
  
  > turn the key
  (the key from an urn)
  Nothing obvious happens.
  
  > turn the iron the key
  Nothing obvious happens.
  
  > look at the hatch
  The humidity of the river has rusted the hatch to the color of dried blood, like an old scab on the embankment. Seemingly of the same vintage as the bridge, it lacks any modern logo or markings, aside from the metal key protruding from an indentation along the edge.
  
  > pull the iron key
  Using the key as a handle, you slowly, painfully drag the hatch open as it screeches in protest.