Apologies! Your web browser lacks required capabilities. Please consider upgrading it or switching to a more modern web browser.
Initializing. Please wait…
It’s late.
It’s dark.
You’ve just got home from something.
You didn’t have a bad time, not at all, but you didn’t particularly have a good one either. It’s in that middle ground that’s hard to describe.
In the window, that ever-so-faint reflection you can barely see is plain. Not empty, not even neutral, just...that face of nothingness, like the one when you accidentally turn the front camera of your phone on.
After fiddling about with your keys, struggling to see the lock in the dim orange glow of a nearby streetlamp - which makes you wonder if those detective shows where they say “Scratches around a keyhole show someone’s an alcoholic because the hand-eye coordination is impaired.” were really talking out of their arse, and these ‘alcoholics’ were just getting home late.
[[You open the door.|Front Hall]]It's dark.
That really dark kind of dark.
Coming through the window is some of the glow from the street light, but the front hall is too dark to be scary. Just all-encompassing. You turned all the lights off before going out. Gotta save energy, right?
[[So you turn a light on now.|Front Hall Lit Up]]
Ah. Much better.
You reach up and hold onto the bannister of the stairs to kick your shoes off. They can rest at skewiff angles on the floor until the morning.
Despite being dark, you're not too tired yet. At least, not tired enough that you're struggling to keep your eyes open.
You pace down the front hallway. One door in front of you, the stairs to your right, and another door tucked away underneath the stairs. And, of course, the front door to your back.
If you were an estate agent, you'd describe this hallway as being cozy, just that right size to feel safe when you come home from work.
You'd just say it's too small.
You arms can't stretch out to the side more than a few degrees, and getting anything bigger than a metre in any dimension into the house was a nightmare.
One example is the mirror, on the wall to your left. Probably about 1.5 metres wide, it looks like it should be expensive. You've not got a clue, because you found it in a charity shop for 20 quid.
[[Look in the mirror|Looking in front hall mirror]]Your hair is a little messy, but overall you look pretty good. Maybe the messiness of your hair helps? It's not intentional, but hey, can't complain.
It's not an exact science for when you look good, but when it happens, it feels great. There's a difference between feeling good and someone telling you you look good.
You smile.
Not one of those half-assed "Say cheese!" smiles, not the kind where you're acutely aware of that tooth or worrying whether it's too much of a smile or too little or whether you should even be smiling at all or maybe you should be going for a full-on open-mouthed chortle, either.
Just, a smile. A nice one.
You turn back. Would you like to take the stairs up towards your bedroom, the door to the kitchen and dining room, or the door to the living room.
[[Go upstairs.|Top of the stairs]]
[[Go to the kitchen.|Kitchen]]
[[Go to the living room.|Living Room]]Standing at the bottom step, you strain to reach the light switch in the hallway. With your fingertip, you press down, clicking it off.
On the landing at the top of the stairs, there are two doors. One to the bathroom, and one to your bedroom.
[[You reach over to the light switch so you don't walk into the bathroom door. Again.|Turning on light at top of the stairs.]]
The light shines in from the hallway, illuminating the room somewhat. It's just about bright enough to see.
[[You could turn the light on.|Kitchen turning light on]]
The kitchen and dining room are like one room. Not quite seperated, but there's a tall counter between them, which currently has a few knickknacks on it. A vase which rarely gets used - although it does make everything nicer when there are bright flowers in it - some candle holders which get about the same use as the vase, and a stereo, for when you want to listen to a CD.
It's not sticking to a dead medium, it's just nice to own a physical version of your favourite things sometimes. A reminder that it can always be there when you need it, rather than in the aether of streaming services.
You walk past the dining room and around the counter, into the kitchen. The floor is rather cold, tiles sapping heat through your socks, but not uncomfortably so.
After opening up a cupboard, you pour out some squash. You're not entirely sure what flavour it is, as you've got a couple of different variants in the kitchen, but it's one of the yellow ones.
You fill up the glass in the sink, and gulp some down.
It's nice.
Again, the kitchen's not too spacious, but that can be rather nice when cooking on your own. From any one spot, you're close enough to just about anything else in the room.
Put pans straight into the sink to be washed up, reach over to the drawer for the garlic crusher, and so on.
[[You pick up one of the pans on the drying rack.|Kitchen picking up pan]]
One of the two rooms in that house that are spacious - which makes sense, being the ones you spend the most time in - the living room is probably your favourite room in the house. A couple large sofas, a comfy chair with perhaps one too many pillows on it, a pretty big tv, and a large mirror on the wall because apparently that makes the room feel bigger.
Those are the sort of tips you get from reading those magazines while in the waiting room at the doctor's.
Right now, it's dark. Because the door in the hallway is under the stairs, light doesn't pour in.
[[So, you turn the light on.|Living Room Lit Up]]
You're no masterful cook, and you wouldn't say cooking is really a hobby of yours, but sometimes it's really fulfilling to just put a whole lot of effort in.
This pan is a record of your mistakes as a chef.
You're not entirely sure what some of the marks on the pan are. The majority of them, though, are from that time you really burned some rice.
Not "Oh there's a few individual pieces of rice stuck to the bottom of the pan, that'll take some scrubbing". More like "I think I can see a demon's face in this forged by hellfire".
It's surprisingly easy to do, and you're sure that the reason most people act like it's a surprise is that they're too embarrassed to admit they've done it too.
You put the pan back down.
Despite sometimes making silly mistakes like that in your cooking, it's not a bad thing. Learning is cool! In that case, you just learned that you probably shouldn't be reading a somewhat engrossing magazine while cooking if it means you forget to check on what's cooking.
[[You turn back to the hall.|Hall after visiting kitchen]]
Your eyes take a moment to adjust as you move from the somewhat dark kitchen to the bright hallway.
[[Do you go into the living room now?|Living room after kitchen]]
[[Or upstairs, to bed?|Top of the stairs]]In here, there's not a switch for the light, but a dial. You could have turned it up all the way, similar to the bright hallway, or have it dimly-lit. You choose something in between.
You catch your reflection in the mirror as the room lights up.
You pull a silly face at yourself.
You giggle a little at your reflection.
It's a little chilly this late in the evening, and the living room has a fireplace that lets cold air in which just exacerbates that problem. Because of that, each seat has a blanket over it, the normally wooden floor has a fluffy rug, and there's a heater hidden behind the sofas.
It makes the room look a few candles and four log cabin walls away from a holiday home in the Alps, and that's not a bad thing. Retreating into that fantasy is quite relaxing.
A hot drink, bundled up under a blanket, watching something nice on TV like a nature documentary.
Escapism has weird connotations, some people like to act as if it's irresponsible. It's not. Fantasies are cool because we get to live impossible lives, imagination is one of the most powerful tools we have. Escaping to that fantasy sometimes is okay.
Right now, though, it's a little late.
[[So you head back to the hallway.|Hallway after living room]]
The living room light fades down to darkness as you turn the dial backwards and move back to the bright hallway.
Seeing the change in light makes you blink twice, and squint a little.
It's even later now.
[[You could go into the kitchen.|Kitchen after living room]]
[[Or you could go upstairs towards bed.|Top of the stairs]]The bedroom is pretty big, or at least it would feel that way if a pair of jeans, a couple large boxes, and a binbag of old clothes you need to take down to the charity shop weren’t taking up large sections of the floor.
You’ll be getting in bed soon, so you just [[turn on the lamp on your bedside table.|Turning lamp on]]
Thankfully, the phone's not too glaringly bright with the background of your bedside lamp.
You've got an unread email, a text message, and a couple of notifications on Facebook. Possibly messages, possibly someone's tagged you in a meme you don't particularly want to be tagged in but have been regardless, almost certainly something that can wait until morning.
The synopsis of the text reads "Hey! Thanks for meeting up this ev..." and trails off, the big 1 on the messaging app enticing you into opening the rest of it.
You lock the phone, and put it back down, lying back in the bed.
You had a nice day today.
Hopefully tomorrow is just as nice too.
[[You turn off the lamp on the bedside table.|Final]]Thanks for playing! Have a nice night.
Written by: Hannah Dwan.
One of the two rooms in that house that are spacious - which makes sense, being the ones you spend the most time in - the living room is probably your favourite room in the house. A couple large sofas, a comfy chair with perhaps one too many pillows on it, a pretty big tv, and a large mirror on the wall because apparently that makes the room feel bigger.
Those are the sort of tips you get from reading those magazines while in the waiting room at the doctor's.
Right now, it's dark. Because the door in the hallway is under the stairs, light doesn't pour in.
[[So, you turn the light on.|Living Room Lit Up After Kitchen]]In here, there's not a switch for the light, but a dial. You could have turned it up all the way, similar to the bright hallway, or have it dimly-lit. You choose something in between.
You catch your reflection in the mirror as the room lights up.
You pull a silly face at yourself.
You giggle a little at your reflection.
It's a little chilly this late in the evening, and the living room has a fireplace that lets cold air in which just exacerbates that problem. Because of that, each seat has a blanket over it, the normally wooden floor has a fluffy rug, and there's a heater hidden behind the sofas.
It makes the room look a few candles and four log cabin walls away from a holiday home in the Alps, and that's not a bad thing. Retreating into that fantasy is quite relaxing.
A hot drink, bundled up under a blanket, watching something nice on TV like a nature documentary.
Escapism has weird connotations, some people like to act as if it's irresponsible. It's not. Fantasies are cool because we get to live impossible lives, imagination is one of the most powerful tools we have. Escaping to that fantasy sometimes is okay.
Right now, though, it's a little late.
[[So you head back to the hallway.|Hallway after living room and kitchen]]As you move through the doorway out of the living room, you spin the dial for the lights quickly, until it clicks and the room becomes dark again, just the outlines of the furniture visible, and only barely.
[[You take a few steps towards the stairs, and drift up them.|Top of the stairs]]The light shines in from the hallway, illuminating the room somewhat. It's just about bright enough to see.
[[You could turn the light on.|Kitchen turning light on after living room]]
The kitchen and dining room are like one room. Not quite seperated, but there's a tall counter between them, which currently has a few knickknacks on it. A vase which rarely gets used - although it does make everything nicer when there are bright flowers in it - some candle holders which get about the same use as the vase, and a stereo, for when you want to listen to a CD.
It's not sticking to a dead medium, it's just nice to own a physical version of your favourite things sometimes. A reminder that it can always be there when you need it, rather than in the aether of streaming services.
You walk past the dining room and around the counter, into the kitchen. The floor is rather cold, tiles sapping heat through your socks, but not uncomfortably so.
After opening up a cupboard, you pour out some squash. You're not entirely sure what flavour it is, as you've got a couple of different variants in the kitchen, but it's one of the yellow ones.
You fill up the glass in the sink, and gulp some down.
It's nice.
Again, the kitchen's not too spacious, but that can be rather nice when cooking on your own. From any one spot, you're close enough to just about anything else in the room.
Put pans straight into the sink to be washed up, reach over to the drawer for the garlic crusher, and so on.
[[You pick up one of the pans on the drying rack.|Kitchen picking up pan after living room]]
You're no masterful cook, and you wouldn't say cooking is really a hobby of yours, but sometimes it's really fulfilling to just put a whole lot of effort in.
This pan is a record of your mistakes as a chef.
You're not entirely sure what some of the marks on the pan are. The majority of them, though, are from that time you really burned some rice.
Not "Oh there's a few individual pieces of rice stuck to the bottom of the pan, that'll take some scrubbing". More like "I think I can see a demon's face in this forged by hellfire".
It's surprisingly easy to do, and you're sure that the reason most people act like it's a surprise is that they're too embarrassed to admit they've done it too.
You put the pan back down.
Despite sometimes making silly mistakes like that in your cooking, it's not a bad thing. Learning is cool! In that case, you just learned that you probably shouldn't be reading a somewhat engrossing magazine while cooking if it means you forget to check on what's cooking.
[[You turn back to the hall.|Hall after visiting kitchen and living room]]
The bright light of the hallway hurts a bit as you walk in. You're not hungover or anything, you just weren't entirely expecting it. You should have been, but, well, it's late.
[[You begin walking up the stairs.|Top of the stairs]]The bedroom is pretty big, or at least it would feel that way if a pair of jeans, a couple large boxes, and a binbag of old clothes you need to take down to the charity shop weren’t taking up large sections of the floor.
You’ll be getting in bed soon, so you just turn on the lamp on your bedside table.
You step around the jeans, and open up a drawer to pull out some comfy pyjamas. You just washed them today, so they’ve got that nice soft feeling and flowery scent.
Stepping out of the clothes you wore today, putting your phone plus any other doohickies in your pockets on the bedside table, you replace them with your pjs.
A promotional shirt from some band you liked when your music taste was a bit more angsty that’s just a bit too big, and a pair of soft shorts. They’re a bit too baggy and always fall down around your knees if you run up or down the stairs in them, but who cares right now?
You climb onto the bed, pull the duvet to one side, and throw it back over yourself.
The sheets are somewhat cold on your skin, but they quickly warm up with you tucked in.
[[You reach over to your phone.|Bedroom with phone]]The light shines in from the hallway, illuminating the room somewhat.
You could turn the light on.
The kitchen and dining room are like one room. Not quite seperated, but there'a tall counter between them, which currently has a few knickknacks on it. A vase which rarely gets used - although it does make everything nicer when there are bright flowers in it - some candle holders which get about the same use as the vase, and a stereo, for when you want to listen to a CD.
It's not sticking to a dead medium, it's just nice to own a physical version of your favourite things sometimes. A reminder that it can always be there when you need it, rather than in the aether of streaming services.
You walk past the dining room and around the counter, into the kitchen. The floor is rather cold, tiles sapping heat through your socks, but not uncomfortably so.
After opening up a cupboard, you pour out some squash. You're not entirely sure what flavour it is, as you've got a couple of different variants in the kitchen, but it's one of the yellow ones.
You fill up the glass in the sink, and gulp some down.
It's nice.
Again, the kitchen's not too spacious, but that can be rather nice when cooking on your own. From any one spot, you're close enough to just about anything else in the room.
Put pans straight into the sink to be washed up, reach over to the drawer for the garlic crusher, and so on.
[[You pick up one of the pans on the drying rack.|Kitchen picking up pan lit]]You're no masterful cook, and you wouldn't say cooking is really a hobby of yours, but sometimes it's really fulfilling to just put a whole lot of effort in.
This pan is a record of your mistakes as a chef.
You're not entirely sure what some of the marks on the pan are. The majority of them, though, are from that time you really burned some rice.
Not "Oh there's a few individual pieces of rice stuck to the bottom of the pan, that'll take some scrubbing". More like "I think I can see a demon's face in this forged by hellfire".
It's surprisingly easy to do, and you're sure that the reason most people act like it's a surprise is that they're too embarrassed to admit they've done it too.
You put the pan back down.
Despite sometimes making silly mistakes like that in your cooking, it's not a bad thing. Learning is cool! In that case, you just learned that you probably shouldn't be reading a somewhat engrossing magazine while cooking if it means you forget to check on what's cooking.
[[You turn back to the hall.|Hall after visiting kitchen lit]]
Clicking the switch for the kitchen lights, you stride past the dining room again, and into the hall.
[[You could go into the living room.|Living room after kitchen]]
[[Or you could go upstairs to your bedroom.|Top of the stairs]]The light shines in from the hallway, illuminating the room somewhat.
You could turn the light on.
The kitchen and dining room are like one room. Not quite seperated, but there'a tall counter between them, which currently has a few knickknacks on it. A vase which rarely gets used - although it does make everything nicer when there are bright flowers in it - some candle holders which get about the same use as the vase, and a stereo, for when you want to listen to a CD.
It's not sticking to a dead medium, it's just nice to own a physical version of your favourite things sometimes. A reminder that it can always be there when you need it, rather than in the aether of streaming services.
You walk past the dining room and around the counter, into the kitchen. The floor is rather cold, tiles sapping heat through your socks, but not uncomfortably so.
After opening up a cupboard, you pour out some squash. You're not entirely sure what flavour it is, as you've got a couple of different variants in the kitchen, but it's one of the yellow ones.
You fill up the glass in the sink, and gulp some down.
It's nice.
Again, the kitchen's not too spacious, but that can be rather nice when cooking on your own. From any one spot, you're close enough to just about anything else in the room.
Put pans straight into the sink to be washed up, reach over to the drawer for the garlic crusher, and so on.
[[You pick up one of the pans on the drying rack.|Kitchen picking up pan lit after living room]]You're no masterful cook, and you wouldn't say cooking is really a hobby of yours, but sometimes it's really fulfilling to just put a whole lot of effort in.
This pan is a record of your mistakes as a chef.
You're not entirely sure what some of the marks on the pan are. The majority of them, though, are from that time you really burned some rice.
Not "Oh there's a few individual pieces of rice stuck to the bottom of the pan, that'll take some scrubbing". More like "I think I can see a demon's face in this forged by hellfire".
It's surprisingly easy to do, and you're sure that the reason most people act like it's a surprise is that they're too embarrassed to admit they've done it too.
You put the pan back down.
Despite sometimes making silly mistakes like that in your cooking, it's not a bad thing. Learning is cool! In that case, you just learned that you probably shouldn't be reading a somewhat engrossing magazine while cooking if it means you forget to check on what's cooking.
[[You turn back to the hall.|Hall after visiting kitchen lit after living room]]
After clicking the switch for the kitchen lights - causing the many bulbs embedded into the ceiling to simultaneously go dim, the small coil inside emanating orange light for just a few moments - you walk back into the hallway.
[[You go upstairs towards bed|Top of the stairs]]Thankfully, the phone's not too glaringly bright with the background of your bedside lamp.
You've got an unread email, a text message, and a couple of notifications on Facebook. Possibly messages, possibly someone's tagged you in a meme you don't particularly want to be tagged in but have been regardless, almost certainly something that can wait until morning.
The synopsis of the text reads "Hey! Thanks for meeting up this ev..." and trails off, the big 1 on the messaging app enticing you into opening the rest of it.
You lock the phone, and put it back down, lying back in the bed.
You had a nice day today.
Hopefully tomorrow is just as nice too.
You turn off the lamp on the bedside table.
[[And close your eyes.|Credits]]The landing remains dark.
Unfortunately, you've still not changed the bulb since a loud pop that rang through the house indicated it died a few weeks ago. During the day that doesn't matter, there's a skylight just above you, but right now, it means you can't turn the light on.
You should probably get that fixed. You wonder what kind of bulb it even is.
You approach the bathroom, and turn the light on. It's a switch on the outside, rather than a string to pull.
White light shining off pristine tiles flows onto the landing.
You walk into the bathroom, and close the door behind you, to get ready for bed. Go to the toilet, brush your teeth, wash any gunk off your face.
After a few minutes, you leave the bathroom, [[and walk to your bedroom.|Bedroom]]