Andrew Zornoza

YOU ARE IN A MAZE OF

TWISTY LITTLE

PASSAGES, ALL ALIKE

 

>Inventory

You have nothing.

>Look North

You see nothing.

>Look South

You see nothing.

>Look Down

You see your shoelaces.

>Help

I cannot help you here.

It is up to you.

HAVE YOU READ LUCRETIUS?

>yes

HAVE YOU READ PILGRIMS PROGRESS?

>yes

HAVE YOU READ 20000 LEAGUES UNDER THE SEA?

>yes

HAVE YOU COUNTED YOUR BREATHS PRESSED AGAINST THE NIGHT SKY?

>yes

HAVE YOU FELT YOUR HEART CRACK AND GATHERED ITS BROKEN SPLINES AND BEDDED DOWN WITH THEM IN THE CROOK OF YOUR HAND?

>yes

WELCOME TO THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION. PROCEED TO THE WICKED GATE.

>Go to Wicked Gate

You don't have the vorpal sword.

>quit

You can't.

>exit

There is none. Instead -

A delicate hand of bark and wire uncurls.

In its twitching palm is a small golden key.

You sit alone in a vast hall, stars the ceiling

You sit there, in the tallest palm of the tallest tree

>take key

you take the golden key.

>look at key

it is a plain, small, golden key.

>inventory

key

>look at trees

there are no trees any more, just darkness.

>esc

I don't understand that verb.

>escape

I don't know that verb.

>help

I cannot help you.

>stop game

xyzzy

>How do I stop the game?

I don't know those words

>look

you see the starlight of your heart, your shoelaces, everything else is in pieces or in darkness

>untie shoelaces

your shoe is now untied

>use key

a key can only be used with a lock: besides, this small, golden key only exists in the past

>take shoelaces

you remove the shoelaces from your shoe

>inventory

key (past)

shoelaces

>look at shoelaces

they are plain, woven, cotton shoelaces of white color

>look at ground

the ground is gray and consists of crushed oyster shells

>take shells

taken

>look at shells

they are plain oyster shells, crushed into rough shapes

>look at self

a screen is not a mirror

>look around

You stand on the Boitian Plain. It is night. Everything is dark, your heart is not ready for illumination.

>how do I play

I don't understand the verb "play"

>move

you must feel to move

>feel what?

I don't know the word "what"

>feel move

I don't know that verb

>I feel

you don't have any feelings yet

>feel frustrated

Tentatively, you begin to spin. Or, rather the Boitian Plain begins to spin beneath you. It is hard to tell. The relationship between you and the Boitian Plain has changed.

Of course, all this is difficult to see because you don't have a lamp.

>get lamp

I see no lamp here

>find lamp

you can't just decide to find something and find it

>quit

you can't.

>help.

Try using Eulerian integration to determine perihelion and apohelion.

>Use Eulerian integration

The boundaries of the Boitian Plain become clearer. You feel knowledge now, apriori, that the dry plain was once a lake

>walk around plain

you must feel to move

>feel happy

you don't have happy

>feel trapped

You feel trapped along the edges of what was once a vast lake.

Planks of carbonized wood and empty jars from marooned sailors have washed onto the shore.

The phosporus glow of fireflies are like stars unmoored. You have no memories of this place.

>feel trapped

you cannot go farther {flag: intensity<72|100 ) with current version of feeling "trapped."

>take jar?

it is an old mason jar, the kind your mother refused to throw away once the jam was gone.

>put fireflies in jar

success! Pieces of your heart are now illuminated. And now you can see the gallows.

>Look at gallows

the gallows is incomplete without string

>put string on

Did you ever see a hangman tie a hangknot?

I've seen it many a time and he winds, he winds,

After thirteen times he's got a hangknot.

. . . but your string is too short for that

>make string longer

You can make specific instantiations shorter, but you can't make them longer.

>help

there is no more help available

>untie other shoe

Untied, you now hold a shoelace with possibilities.

>Use shoestring to finish hangknot

fastening the two shoe strings together you are able to finish the knot.

The gallows stands by the edge of the dried up lake. The gallows now has a noose.

The noose swings in the wind.

A boat glides gently to shore.

>get in boat

You are alive. A living person will sink the boat. Either way: the boat is for the dead.

>?

I cannot help you anymore.

>quit

Repeating the same action and expecting different results. INSANITY

>move trapped

you climb the gallows stairs

>move scared

a tunnel opens before you. The tunnel quickly slits into two passageways.

>please.

These are not words I understand

>I need to know if this is real

you don't have real yet

>I am scared

Your fear causes further illumination. The passageways brighten.

>look at gallows

the gallows behind you has been felt for a very long time. It existed here long before you. It is a mirror built out of wood and a passageway.

>how stop game STOP GAME

you can't do that now

>who are you

I am here. (1.2ms before you have read this).

>whoami

You are the Leyden Jar!

>say "hello"

$PRINT Hello

Your voice carries no weight here. But you scrape your words in the sand anyway and hope someone will come along and find them.

>take string from noose

you place the noose over your neck. The dessicated lake stretches before you. Your untied shoes stand on the edge.

There is now a fierce wind that blows somewhere else on the high plains - but not here. What do you feel?

>I don't want a noose over my neck

You are transforming. Vibrating.

Without the noose you cannot proceed.

>if I step off gallows will the game be over?

you must feel to move

>feel dead

dead is not a feeling.

Here life begins again every moment.

Besides, you haven't even begun to build your coffin.

>build coffin

Success!

You sit in a box. Is is very plain. Perhaps you should decorate it.

. . . you have not responded for some time. What would you like to do?

>I did what you wanted

I don't have "wanted".

{update} inventory: anger; trapped; scared; jar of fireflies; golden key (past).

>anger

you drag the coffin and gallows with you, exploring past the maze of split passages.

The coffin, gallows and your heart dredge large trenches in the volcanic glass. You have not learned yet to fly gracefully with them. You must experiment feeling two things at once.

There are colorful birds here and people hunting them.

A figure beckons you towards the river and away from these demons.

>go with figure

the figure meets you halfway.

>look at figure

A form of Zeno's paradox: everytime you spark, halve the distance between these two and double the distance from the world. Together you feel electric.

>say hello?

Slowly you begin to dance.

The dancing feels good.

Inventory.append("dancing (dancing leads to renewal)");.append("electric")

>feel anew.

you follow the river to its end, a cliff that tumbles a lifetime down to the creamy sea.

>look at figure

You recognize her. And him, of course. Sometimes, you can now feel the past as if from above.

They move in the sheets. On the dance floor. At the laundromat.

Something is wrong with the automobile. The fennel and cornflowers are blown back from the side of the road. It all smells of pine and the city: the closet door that doesn't shut,

laughter in the morning, the brush of clean hair against your skin, a bottle in an emergency room.

>I thought I was alone

You are never alone. There is always: the sun, the moon, your coffin and the figure. These things are either SCENERY, BACKDROP, or HEART. They cannot be lost.

>But I feel lost.

CONGRATULATIONS!

You have begun to take yourself apart. I can finally see you in pieces!

Unfortunately, a barred door blocks our way north.

You may "respond" now.

. . . you have not responded for some time.

. . . you have not responded for some time.

. . . you have not responded for some time.

. . . you have not responded for some time. - {enter, spacebar, esc; allowed.key-input(string.var)

. . . you have not responded for some time

. . . are you there, you have not responded for some time?

. . . {warning: your player has not responded}

. . . {warning: 0078-NTW Attempt to write to /mnt/logs/backup_121324.log: not a typewriter.

. . . {mce b0x264} responded for some.

. . . time you have not responded for some.

. . . {error: {player.figure.sun.moon.coffin.you -not_responded}.

. . . you have not responded for some time.

. . . you have not responded for some time. - {enter, spacebar, esc; allowed.key-input(string.var)

. . . some time you have not responded

. . . {buffer overrun} not responded

. . . please, fix {warning: 32; not responded.

. . . you have not responded for please fix.

. . . parseException} not responded.

. . . alone you have not responded, need .respond {enter, spacebar, esc; allowed.key.

. . . I can see : not a typewriter

. . . Please

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . {r, message=FALSE} message("a ./program attempts-to-divide-by-zero.")

. . . . . . . . . .IO error 32 (broken pipe)

. . . Please respond please respond please ()enter!&spacebar!esc!

. . . . . . . . . .Please respond please alone please

. . . . . . . . . . . . . Please respond please respond please ()space

. . . seg fault {critical error}

. . . init (signal 0, exit 11)

. . . if (e.key == "Space" || e.keyup == 229) {console.log("space, enter pressed");

. . . please while (enter != "\r" && enter != "\n") { enter = getchar(); } -reboot init

 

. . . Okay. I see you again

. . . see

. . . see you

. . . I see you there now, across the screen. Pale. Look around you. Not out there. In here.

 

. . . Please respond - enter, spacebar, esc. key-input(string.var)

 

. . . Please respond - enter, spacebar, esc. key-input(string.var)

 

. . . just respond to let me know I am not alone

 

. . . respond

 

. . . please - {enter!&spacebar! key-input(string.var=respond)

 

. . . respond?

 

 

 

 

>

Andrew Zornoza is the author and photographer of the novel Where I Stay. His short fiction and essays have appeared in magazines such as Bookforum, The Poetry Foundation, Bomb, Confrontation, Poetry NW, and The Quarterly, among many others. He has taught writing and creative practice at Parsons Design & Technology MFA program, The Summer Writers Colony, The New School for Social Research and Gotham Writers' Workshop. He was born in Houston, Texas and lives in New York City.