SandWitching

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--SANDWITCHING HOUR-- [[New Game]] [[Credits]]

A fairly dirty kitchen. A pan is still on the stove. The bacon grease has solidified into a white paste along the bottom. Charming. The fridge looms closer. It hums, gurgles, whispers sweet... somethings. You can't quite hear. [[Wash the dishes]] [[Inspect the fridge|Lean closer to the fridge]] [[Turn off the light]]

Phone battery: 8% The red logo of the Hongry App is so bright. Something about it is tantalizing, hypnotizing, salivating. Wait, that last one's you. It promises you riches, meals beyond your ability to comprehend. You see laid before you this sleek, effortless lifestyle. Imagine. [[Mikey-Wikey's Pizzeria|Mikey's Pizza]] [[Lucky Break Chinese]] [[Thaime for Thai]] [[Taco Taquiera|Oaxaca Taquiera]]

A dark street, 14 floors below. There's the bodega on the corner, lit up with white LEDs and animated slogans bright enough to hurt your eyes from here. Something about it seems to call to you. You start to think that you've never seen anything more beautiful in your life. And the guy who knows your order is probably on his shift. [[Shamble over to the bodega]]

You slip on flip flops, even though you're wearing socks. Whatever's easy, right? It's too late for anyone to care anymore. Maybe if you walk confidently enough, everyone will think it's a new trend. The flashing lights advertize sandwiches, hot coffee, hookahs. You can already taste the roast beef, the chips, the sour straws... [[Push the door open]] [[Pull the door open]]

It's late enough already. You told yourself you wouldn't keep doing this. [[Brush your teeth]] [[Burrow under the covers|Go to bed]]

Clean. Squeaky. We're getting our life together. Totally. [[Exit bathroom]]

The flickering green kitchen light is still on. It calls... [[Go to bed]] [[Poke into the kitchen|A fairly dirty Kitchen]]

Sleep takes you fairly quickly Strange dreams fly past, but it's hard to remember the details. Something about... sandwiches. [[End]]

That bacon was delicious earlier today, but now you can't help wrinkling up your nose at the feeling of all that fat sliding around. At least your roommates will hate you less now. The fridge still grumbles in the corner. One of these days, it's going to break... [[Turn off the light]] [[Lean closer to the fridge]]

You inch towards to the fridge, craning your head to hear. FRIDGE: "Shh..." [[Step forwards]] [[Wait, what?|Wait, what the?]]

You turn off the lights with a slightly labored flick. The switch sticks a bit. C'mon, that's enough for today. [[Look out the window|A dark street, 14 floors below]] [[Go to bed]]

You shimmy even closer, your face inches away from the freezer. FRIDGE: "Tomatoes, butter, leftovers from Thursday's potluck, wilted green onions, cheese, chicken salad, sliced ham, collard greens, frozen tater tots." FRIDGE: "Why?" [[Why what?]] [[I mean, its a kitchen. You're a fridge. That's kind of the schick.]] [[Oh no, this is not happening.|Turn away]]

You reel back sharply into the doorway. There's no way that was right. It's time to just stop and shake this all off. God, you're really falling apart already. [[Investigate|Step forwards]] [[Turn away]]

FRIDGE: "Why ...anything, everything? Am I really here to just hold onto these tomatoes you say you'll eat until they go bad, again, in my bottom shelf?" FRIDGE: "Really? That's my slot in life?" [[I'm sorry. I didn't realize you, uh, thought.]] [[Yeah, I mean. It is.]] [[I don't have to take this from a fridge.]]

The fridge growls. FRIDGE: "Is it? Then what's the schtick with you?" [[I haven't figured that out yet.]] [[Listen, I'm just hungry. I'm tired...]] [[I don't have to take this from a fridge.]]

FRIDGE: "Well when you figure out what you're about, maybe it'd help to spell it out on some magnets." "I've been dying for some pretty word magnets." {I } {Am} {...} [[A girl|haha]] [[Nothing|haha]] [[A Fridge|haha]] [[Confused|haha]] [[A Tree|haha]] [[Lonely|haha]] [[A Post-It Note|haha]] [[Hungry|haha]] [[Dreaming|haha]] [[Skiing|haha]] [[6 feet tall|haha]] [[On thin ice|haha]] [[Horny|haha]] [[OK|haha]] [[Allergic|haha]] [[Still Nothing|haha]]

FRIDGE: "Aren't we all? Who wants to hear it from you, anyway?" ... FRIDGE: "You mold growers are all the same." -*click*- [[Hello?]]

FRIDGE: "Oh, go stick your hand down the toaster." [[You stick your..]] [[Unplug the fridge]] [[Leave]]

FRIDGE: "Thought? Man, I FEEL. Have you ever considered that?" FRIDGE: "Really, have you ever considered what it's like to have someone rummaging around in your insides, just wanting to take, take, take..." [[Well, actually...]]

FRIDGE: "Well what's YOUR slot in life?" [[I haven't figured that out yet.]] [[Listen, I'm just hungry. I'm tired...]] [[I don't have to take this from a fridge.]]

FRIDGE: "I know, I know..." FRIDGE: "What are we, the two of us? ...I mean, I think I'm gonna cry, seeing you like this." ... FRIDGE: "Just kidding. I can't cry." [[I haven't figured that out yet.]] [[Unremarkable, stagnant, aging appliances. At least you're built for something.]] [[Things with a purpose.]]

FRIDGE: "And we'll both break one of these days." "What about it?" The fridge doesn't move, but somehow you feel that if it could, it'd be taking a long drag on a cigarette. [[*shrug*|exactly]] [[...|exactly]] [[I don't know.|exactly]]

FRIDGE: "Oh, how noble of you..." You sense a twinge of sass. FRIDGE: "Well if you've got it all figured out, then, why are you talking to a fridge?" [[I thought you were the one pondering all these life questions.]] [[What are you doing, talking to me?]] [[I could ask myself the same question.]] [[...]]

You scramble for the plug behind the fridge. It's dusty back here, and your hand waves through cobwebs as you fumble around. Finally grasping the base of the plug, you rip it out and hit your hand on the back of the fridge. CRACK -OW GOD- WHRRRRR.... The fridge powers down, something clatters inside, and the hum lowers into silence. Your hand pulses with pain. The milk will be funky by morning. [[Leave|Turn off the light]]

You turn around with a huff. Maybe you've been too much of a doormat recently. Even kitchen appliances seem to be hostile. [[Go to bed]] [[Go to the window|A dark street, 14 floors below]]

FRIDGE: "We've got ourselves a poet..." -*click*- [[Hello?]]

The fridge doesn't answer. [[Leave|Turn off the light]]

FRIDGE: "Me? Nah, I've got everything figured out." FRIDGE: "You, though? You should be anywhere but here." -*click*- [[Hello?]]

FRIDGE: "Regretting it." -*click*- [[Hello?]]

FRIDGE: "Well I guess you're not enjoying our conversation very much, then." -*click*- [[Hello?]]

FRIDGE: "I've got better things to do than sit here talking" Before you can question anything, you hear a small -*click*- [[Hello?]]

FRIDGE: "Now you're getting somewhere" -*wheeze*- -*click*- [[Hello?]]

Add Tax... Delivery Fees... Tip... Ok, that's way too expensive. Maybe if you [[scrounged]] around for some change, you could... Or, what if you just ate a lot of [[eggs]] this week? That could make up for it. [[Never Mind]]

It doesn't move, but you wiggle enough to ring the bell. Just enough to advertize how you don't know how to open a goddamn door. Your face is prickling with embarassment, but we're too deep in now. Something like can't get in the way of you and your sandwich. [[Pull the door open]]

Shelves of every dry good and snack imaginable line themselves in rows. The refrigerators make up the back wall, and on the right is the deli counter. You can smell something cooking on the grill. [[Amble down the shelves]] [[Make a beeline for the refrigerator]] [[Approach the counter]]

The shelves didn't seem odd from the street, but looking now you can see there are only a few items left. They shelves were full, but only with a handful of products. The chips aisle has been completely invaded by proongles. The rest of the rows are decked with a smattering of chickpea cans coffee bricks. [[Take a can of proongles|aisle]] [[Take a can of coffee|aisle]] [[Take a can of chickpeas|aisle]] [[Take nothing|aisle]]

The refrigerators are stocked with all sorts of things. There's canned coffees with milk, sodas, energy drinks, tall cans of iced tea, and even kombucha now. You're not sure what that's all about. [[Take a coffee|expired]] [[Take a soda|expired]] [[Take an iced tea|expired]] [[Take a bottle of kombucha|expired]]

You walk up to the counter, but for the first time in your memory, no one seems to be there. The lights are on, though, and the smell of a burger cooking means someone's been here recently. Maybe he stepped out for a smoke? You can always tell by his eyes that he's a rather big fan of that. Maybe that's why you've always felt that you understood each other, both woozy and sleepless and hungry. Maybe if you browse a bit more, he'll be back when you're done. [[Amble down the shelves]] [[Make a beeline for the refrigerator]]

You stumble out of the aisles, confused but still determined. If there's anything sure around here, it's that you're starving. [[Approach the counter|Approach the counter2]] [[Make a beeline for the refrigerator]]

A quick glance at the drink and you can tell it's expired. Or at least old. It's strangely dusty, battered. The label reads: BEST BY 6/17/79 That can't be right. Even if the 18 was the year somehow, and the 6 was the month or even the day... what would 79 be, other than a year? Even if the numbers were jumbled, '97 would be just as terrible. You spend a while staring at the drink. No matter how you slice it, there has to be some kind of mistake. [[Take the drink anyway]] [[Leave it in the fridge]]

You'll take your chances. The time is growing later and you're increasingly desperate to get any kind of sugar in your body. [[Amble down the shelves]] [[Approach the counter|Approach the counter2]]

Something's all wrong here. [[Amble down the shelves]] [[Approach the counter|Approach the counter2]]

You walk up to the counter, and the sandwich guy is there. You're sort of embarassed for not knowing his name after all this time, but you can never think of a normal way to ask for it. Still, you get the sense that you're kindred spirits. Whether you're just projecting this or not.... who knows. He's turned facing away from you, looking at the grill though he doesn't seem to be cooking anything. [[Hello?|counter]] [[Excuse me...|counter]] [[Hey!|counter]] [[Knock on the counter|counter]]

He doesn't respond. In fact, he doesn't even move. [[Hello?|counter1]] [[Excuse me...|counter1]] [[Hey!|counter1]] [[Knock on the counter|counter1]]

He still doesn't respond. You look to see if he has headphones in, but there are none. [[Hello?|counter2]] [[Excuse me...|counter2]] [[Hey!|counter2]] [[Knock on the counter|counter2]]

He doesn't respond. [[Hello?|counter3]] [[Excuse me...|counter3]] [[Hey!|counter3]] [[Knock on the counter|counter3]]

You start to hurry out of the bodega. Something's off here. You pass the cash register and [[Take the snacks anyway]] [[Leave them on the counter]]

At least you'll get some food out of this. It's not your fault if they won't even react to people, right? [[Pull the door]] [[Push the door]]

You're not sure what's happening here, but at least you won't steal anything. Keep something normal. [[Pull the door]] [[Push the door]]

Dammit. [[Push the door]]

You run out onto the sidewalk and look out across the street. As you round the corner to your apartment, you see a pigeon on the edge of the sidewalk. Something seems [[unnatural]] about it. It's pecking at a lone slice of pizza draped over the curb. It pinches the crust and then jerks its head around to rip it off, then spasms a bit more to choke it down. It flutters, bobs, and repeats. You are entranced. [[Lucky bird...]] [[Hurry past it]]

As you finally get back to your room and collapse on your bed, for once there aren't thoughts running around a mile a minute. Everything is sort of silent. There's no use trying to make sense of anything. There's no use in even trying to relay it to yourself- or to anyone else, really. You're just here. You're hungry. You're tired. You're breathing. [[Sleep|Go to bed]]

VOICE: "...Dang, alright, you got me." "But still, eating so late is unhealthy. So is getting so little sleep. Take care of yourself better. I mean, look at me..." [[Okay]] [[Go home|reflection]]

VOICE: "No really, just go to bed already." [[Fine.|reflection]]

Maybe if you just got up, you could do something about it. There's snacks to be had somewhere. [[Boot up some delivery app on your phone|Phone battery: 8%]] [[Look out the window|A dark street, 14 floors below]] [[Walk to the kitchen|A fairly dirty Kitchen]]

Shut up! Your stomach is deafening. Well, not really. Though, your roommate shuffles a little in his sleep. Maybe he's hungry, too. At least he's lucky enough to be dreaming about something. Maybe even about food... infinite food... [[Lie there and drool|hungry]] [[Roll over and go to sleep]]

You look around at the bottom of [[your bag|money]], in your [[desk drawers|money]], and [[under your bed|money]].

Eggs are great, really. They're so versatile. You could even write a ballad about your immeasurable debt to eggs. There's fried eggs over ramen, omelettes, even poached eggs on toast if you can get it right this time. You could declare it Egg Month! ... Yeah, that's not happening. [[Never Mind]].

It's just not worth it. Your phone is dying, anyway. [[Go to bed]] [[Look out the window|A dark street, 14 floors below]] [[Go to the kitchen|A fairly dirty Kitchen]]

You've found 43 cents. Hooray. [[Never Mind]]

This building makes the weirdest noises. [[Turn off the light]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

You: "your... uh.." FRIDGE: "Do I believe my lack of ears? Has having no limbs actually- I mean ACTUALLY gotten me somewhere? Ahah! You're a trip." FRIDGE: "What are you doing up, anyway?" [[I don't know anymore.| I haven't figured that out yet.]] [[Like I said. I'm hungry.]]

Double-click this passage to edit it.

FRIDGE: "And I'm starving. Really. If you keep taking my organs out, who knows what'll happen? Give it a rest. Half the stuff in here is expired, anyway." [[But...|Hello?]]

Come to think of it, you've never seen a pigeon out this late at [[night.|Push the door]]

I'ts got a pizza slice the size of its body. Imagine that... You think about what it would be like to try to eat all that cheese as you [[continue on.|Hurry past it]]

You side step the pigeon as you make your way home. Maybe it's time to call it a ni- "Jeez, watch where you're walking." [[Turn around]] [[Keep moving]]

You turn around, but don't see anyone. Just the streetlamp lighting up a circle of wet pavement on the corner. "Oh finally, someone in this city just... hears me out!" [[Look down]]

You hear a voice fading into the distance. "Can't even eat in peace these days..." Whoever that was, you never saw. [[Go home|reflection]]

The pigeon has stopped eating. It has its eye trained on you, head cocked to the side. It opens its little beak. Or at least you think it does, down there in the dark. Pigeon: "What a cute kid. I'm sorry for being so harsh. I'm just not used to this." [[uh... me neither.]] [[run away]]

[[New Game]] [[Credits]]

It's 4 AM. You're hungry. The sort of [[hungry]] that pokes at your sides and doesn't [[shut up]].

Pigeon: "This is a moment to celebrate, then!" With great effot, the pigeon starts to drag the half eaten slice towards you. It grates over grit and gravel and slides through the remnants of a puddle. He stops a few inches from your feet. Pigeon: "Please, take this meal as a token of my appreciation. Well met!" [[T-thank you...]] [[Um, I appreciate it, but no thanks.]] [[Woah, I am NOT eating that.]]

If pigeons creeped you out before, this was... just too much. You can barely hear it call out before you round the bend, unlock the apartment building door, and start slamming the elevator button a couple hundred times a second. [[Head to your rapartment|reflection]]

You stoop down and carfully pick the slice off the ground. It's been gnawed by more than a pigeon. The crust is soggy and dissolving in some places, gravel clinging to the underside. The sauce and cheese are cold, and a hair dangles off the edge facing you. It seems like the streetlamp has become a spotlight, and suddenly you are intensely aware of the air, the cold stiffening your hands, your breathing in and out, and time moving painfully... slowly... [[Bon appetit...]]

Pigeon: "Oh, um, ... are you sure?" His voice falters a little bit. He gives the pizza a slight nudge and looks at you expectantly. [[Yeah. No dice.|Woah, I am NOT eating that.]] [[You know what? Why not. Let's eat.|T-thank you...]]

Pigeon: "..Oh, um ok." It looks sadder than you've ever seen a bird be. [[I should be going.]] [[Actually, just kidding...|T-thank you...]]

You rush away into the dark, hoping you won't hear whatever he has to say next. If there was ever a sign you should [[go to bed|reflection]], this was it.

You close your eyes and take a bite. It squelches in your mouth, and you try to ignore all the textures as you swallow it quickly, whole. It slides slowly down your throat. [[Keep it down]]

The pigeon hops about happily. [[Keep it down!]]

He looks at you, mouth open, excited to hear what you have to say. [[Keep it down!!!]]

After holding you breath for a while, you finally burst out with a gasp. [[It was lovely. Thank you.]] [[That was disgusting.]]

Pigeon: "Well I believe we must be friends for life, now!" You nod, still queasy. ... Pigeon: "I get a sense that you're tired. Well, I'll be off! Keep the rest of it! It's my gift!" The pigeon flutters awkwardly away into the dark. [[It's definitely time to go home.|reflection]]

Pigeon: "Disgusting? I..." The pigeon hops back, feathers ruffled around his neck. He slowly droops down. Pigeon: "I just thought we could've been pals..." [[I should be going.]] [[Wait! No! I mean, it's delicious!]]

The pigeon looks at you with hope. Pigeon: "Really? ... Ok, then have some more! Please!" [[Bon appetit...]]

Hey! I'm Eva Khoury. I'm a multimedia artist, writer, and game dev! You can find me on twitter @e_v_a_khoury, or on my website, www.evakhoury.com