Dreams of the Quill

Flak went whining like a baby about how branched story lines would pollute the future, so we’re back to Stage 01.

??
There is a sharp pain in your ribs, and you are very much awake.

>l
You see nothing. Your eyes are closed.

>open eyes
You are wincing too violently to open your eyes.

>massage ribs
You ruefully rub your side, and after a moment the pain fades enough for you to open your eyes.

>l
Your vision is clouded by tears.

>wipe eyes
You blink, dispersing the tears.

A Dark Cubicle
You are standing in a dark cubicle – yours. The furnishings include a plain desk of cold hard varnished wood, a toppled chair, and a small wastebasket. They do not include anything else. There are several shadowy forms on the desk, one of which gently glows a sickly green. You know these as your computer monitor, keyboard, and desk clock. It is the clock which is glowing. The darkness does a passable job of masking the oppressive blandness of the space.
The hallway outside is dark as well.

>turn on light
There is no way to do that here.

>pick up chair
You start to bend to lift the chair, but your ribs hurt too much.

>massage ribs
You ruefully rub your side, and after a moment the pain fades further.

>massage ribs
You ruefully rub your side, and after a little while the pain is gone.

You remember that a third, tinnier sound followed quickly on the heels of your collision with the desk as you surged to wakefulness and the toppling of the chair.

>pick up chair
You don’t feel like doing that right now.

>exit cubicle
You’re not allowed to leave until your shift is over.

>wait
Nothing happens.

>wait
Nothing happens.

>*sigh*
You tiredly sigh – a weak expression of scorn for the world – and have slightly more energy.

>pick up chair
You heave the clumsy chair upright.

>sit
You are now seated on the floor. Your chair and desk loom over you.

It occurs to you that with a couple cushions it would be quite comfortable sleeping down here — at least compared to sleeping in the chair. As you think about cushions and feel around evaluating the space you knock over the waste basket. It makes a tinny sound.

>x wastebasket
It is a generic plastic waste basket as found in cubicles across America. It contains a computer mouse.

>take mouse
You remove the mouse from the wastebasket.

—- Computer mouse added to inventory.
—- You are now tethered to your computer keyboard.

>put mouse on desk
You don’t feel like doing that right now.

>sigh at mouse cord
You morosely contemplate the mouse’s obsolete cord and the injustice it represents – a moderate expression of scorn for the world – and have a bit more energy.

>put mouse on desk
The mouse is now back on the desk.

—- Computer mouse subtracted from inventory.
—- You are no longer tethered to your computer keyboard.

>pick up wastebasket
You reset the mousetrap, and then wonder why you bothered.

>exit cubicle
You’re not allowed to leave until your shift is over.

>x clock
You cannot see the clock from your current position.

>stand up
You are now standing. You loom over your desk and chair.

>x clock
The little backlit analog clock on the corner of the desk indicates that it is ten o’clock. But this clock has been broken for ages.

>i
On your left wrist is a watch.

> x watch
You strain slightly to read the cracked display of this clunky digital watch. It is 5:12 am.
Your shift ends at 5:30.

—- Stage Clear —-

—- Would you like to save your progress so far? (y/n)

>y

—- Progress saved

—- Proceed to the next stage? (y/n)

>y

—- Loading…
—- Loading….
—- Please wait….