Retro Gamer 9/Retro Gamer 09.iso/IFComp 2004/IFComp2004.exe/gamlet.z5

Z-code for Z-machine | 2004-09-30 | 244.0 KB | 4,860 lines

Resident data ends at 8cc8, program starts at 8cc8, file ends at 3cff8

Starting analysis pass at address 8cc5

End of analysis pass, low address = 8cc8, high address = 1cbb3


[Start of text]

S001: "GAMLET"
S002: "
Tomasz Pudlo (tomaszp AT nycmail DOT com) Copyright 2004 (Gamma 1.3z)
"
S003: "991113"
S004: "6/10"
S005: "a"
S006: "---"
S007: "The "
S008: "the "
S009: "a "
S010: "The "
S011: "the "
S012: "an "
S013: "The "
S014: "the "
S015: "some "
S016: "The "
S017: "the "
S018: "some "
S019: "N = next subject"
S020: "P = previous"
S021: "  Q = resume game"
S022: "Q = previous menu"
S023: "RETURN = read subject"
S024: "Score: "
S025: "Moves: "
S026: "Time: "
S027: "You can't go that way."
S028: "your former self"
S029: "yourself"
S030: "Darkness"
S031: "those things"
S032: "that"
S033: " or "
S034: "nothing"
S035: " is"
S036: " are"
S037: "is "
S038: "are "
S039: " and "
S040: "whom "
S041: "which "
S042: "(considering the first sixteen objects only)
"
S043: "
Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game"
S044: ", give the FULL score for that game"
S045: ", see some suggestions for AMUSING things to do"
S046: "[Your interpreter does not provide "undo".  Sorry!]"
S047: ""Undo" failed.  [Not all interpreters provide it.]"
S048: "[You can't "undo" what hasn't been done!]"
S049: "[Can't "undo" twice in succession. Sorry!]"
S050: "["Oops" can only correct a single word.]"
S051: "It is pitch dark, and you can't see a thing."
S052: "[To repeat a command like "frog, jump", just say "again", not "frog,
again".]"
S053: "[You seem to want to talk to someone, but it's unclear whom.]"
S054: "With the mute malice of inanimate things "
S055: "[To talk to someone, try "someone, hello" or some such.]"
S056: "[I didn't understand that sentence.]"
S057: "[I didn't understand that number.]"
S058: "[You can't use multiple objects with that verb.]"
S059: "[You can only use multiple objects once on a line.]"
S060: "[You excepted something not included.]"
S061: "It seems strange to think that while you sleep inanimate things are
awake; paralysed, but sentient, they see and hear and never rest."
S062: "[That's not something you need to refer to in the course of this game.]"
S063: "[I didn't understand the way that finished.]"
S064: "[You can only have one item here. Which exactly?]"
S065: "(Since something dramatic has happened, your list of commands has been
cut short.)"
S066: " (closed, empty and providing light)"
S067: "no pronouns are known to the game."
S068: "[Are you sure you want to restart?] "
S069: "[The game file has verified as intact.]"
S070: "[The game file did not verify as intact, and may be corrupt.]"
S071: "[Attempt to begin transcript failed.]"
S072: "[Attempt to end transcript failed.]"
S073: "Since you've met your dead father you have visited: "
S074: "Since you've met your dead father you have handled:
"
S075: "You're carrying too many things already."
S076: " in your possession before you can put "
S077: "You can't put something on top of itself."
S078: " in your possession before you can put "
S079: "You can't put something inside itself."
S080: "That would scarcely empty anything."
S081: " for a while, but don't achieve much."
S082: "You can only get into something free-standing."
S083: "But you aren't in anything at the moment."
S084: "You'll have to say which compass direction to go in."
S085: " is now in its normal "brief" printing mode, which gives long
descriptions of places never before visited and short descriptions otherwise."
S086: " is now in its "verbose" mode, which always gives long descriptions of
locations (even if you've been there before)."
S087: " is now in its "superbrief" mode, which always gives short descriptions
of locations (even if you haven't been there before)."
S088: "Darkness, noun.  An absence of light to see by."
S089: "seem to be something you can unlock."
S090: "seem to be something you can lock."
S091: "You hold a silent conversation with yourself, for no one else seems able
to answer the questions that gnaw at your soul."
S092: "This dangerous act would achieve little."
S093: "Nothing practical results from your prayer."
S094: "The dreadful truth is, this is not a dream."
S095: "Digging would achieve nothing here."
S096: "You jump on the spot, fruitlessly."
S097: "You would achieve nothing by this."
S098: "But there's no water here to carry."
S099: "- O, Adanoi Hashem, I beseech Thee, forgive my sins. -
"
S100: "Real adventurers do not use such language."
S101: "Violence isn't the answer to this one."
S102: "There's not enough water to swim in."
S103: "There's nothing sensible to swing here."
S104: "Is that the best you can think of?"
S105: "You lack the nerve when it comes to the crucial moment."
S106: "Too much physical activity could prove detrimental to your already
fragile health."
S107: "You aren't feeling especially drowsy."
S108: "You discover nothing of interest in "
S109: ", but seem unable to express it intelligibly. Language, that spills from
your mouth as naturally as saliva, turns out to be almost as resistant to
analysis as the seemingly endless permutations of the Torah.
"
S110: "[Gluing in inference with pattern code "
S111: "You have nothing, except a devouring illness.
"
S112: "You have nothing, unless you count the rope that ties your arms as a
personal possession.
"
S113: "You silently curse the universe for not conforming to your
expectations."
S114: "- To die, to sleep...  To sleep, perchance to dream! Ay-yay-yay, there's
the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled
off this mortal coil, must give us pause... -

"
S115: ""Not To Be" is not an option; there is only "To Be", pleasant or
unpleasant.
"
S116: "A man is as big as the thing that makes him mad."
S117: "The thought alone fills you with dread."
S118: "There's something degrading about having a piece of furniture for an
opponent."
S119: ", curse you! From Gehenna's lake of fire I stab at "
S120: " you exclaim, shaking your fist at the wicked "
S121: "This is not something you can look up."
S122: "Your prayer is steady, thankful, and confident that, no matter what
happens, His will is for your good."
S123: "You are unable to pray in any meaningful way."
S124: "- Blessed are You, Hashem, King of the Universe, who have not made me a
Gentile.
  Blessed are You who have not made me a dog.
  Blessed are You who have not made me a woman. -
"
S125: "Standing absolutely still, you begin to silently recite the Amidah. For
a fleeting moment, your existence seems to have a meaning. But the night is too
dramatic, too full of movement and sound. Your mind slides from the words and
darts to the image of your father, so unjustly dead."
S126: "In vain you try to free yourself from his grip."
S127: "You might just as well enjoy yourself. As you jump on the spot you
notice a metallic gleam atop the grandfather clock.
"
S128: "With a belly so full it threatens to burst! The thought alone fills you
with dread."
S129: "Your knees bend and the muscles in your legs flex. Your feet relinquish
contact with solid ground, and for a fraction of a second the spell of gravity
is broken.
"
S130: "Sober garb and total muteness dress a boy with astuteness."
S131: "Your arms are tied behind your back and your face is being smashed
against a rock.
"
S132: "[You either can't see it or it's not important.]
"
S133: "If all wishes were granted, many dreams would be destroyed.
"
S134: "You contemplate the banality of senseless destruction.
"
S135: "Wishes alone do not light candles."
S136: "With a match? No, you'd need something more substantial."
S137: "You contemplate the banality of senseless destruction."
S138: "A scrape on the tongue, nothing unexpected."
S139: "you conclude with a grimace of distaste.
"
S140: "You are too startled to think clearly."
S141: "Your hair bristles with cerebral activity. But what good will thinking
bring about? Thoughts are not deeds, not on this mortal plane."
S142: "Even if you could, you would achieve nothing by this."
S143: "Frozen by fear and chilled into silence, you wait."
S144: "You are too startled to utter a sound."
S145: "
Your singing has no apparent effect on him."
S146: "Your voice, timid and off-key, now and then reaches your ears. "
S147: "- ...will sing to Hashem for He is... horse and rider He has cast in the
sea... -
"
S148: "You have entered a trance from which you are unable to wake. Your mind
has wandered too far, far beyond your reach."
S149: "You pinch yourself in the age old manner of determining wakefulness.
This is not a dream."
S150: "You try to free yourself from his grip, but you are no match for his
strength."
S151: "Profanity is the fire that kindles the wrath of Tetragrammaton."
S152: "Availability does not equal attractiveness."
S153: "The hair on your legs stands on end, your throat goes dry. You sense a
presence, like a dog smells another dog. There is someone else on the balcony,
in the dark corner by the balustrade. A spy? A prowler? But the wall is
impossible to climb. Not a person then, but a demon. Baal-Zevuv? It steps out
of the dark. A shudder of relief runs along your extremities as you recognise
your dead father.

"
S154: "With the mute malice of inanimate things the "
S155: "There is nothing but emptiness on "
S156: "With the mute malice of inanimate things, the "
S157: "Too awkward and bulky to lug around."
S158: "There is nothing but emptiness on "
S159: "With the mute malice of inanimate things the "
S160: "There's no suitable place to put it here.
"
S161: "There's no suitable place to put them here.
"
S162: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S163: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S164: "You would have to defy gravity first.
"
S165: "This would achieve less than little.
"
S166: "You look about your person curiously, before concluding that you have
nowhere to put "
S167: "No bag, no pockets, no place to accommodate such accessories.
"
S168: "
A whisper from inside your head: The sheets in your bed...
"
S169: "Lacking the nervous systems necessary for perception and cognition, the
"
S170: " unable to engage in social intercourse."
S171: "With the mute malice of inanimate things, the "
S172: "With the mute malice of inanimate things the "
S173: "Your nostrils flare like an animal scenting, but "
S174: "Mute and unflinching. The performance achieves, in its stoical silence,
more than any actor could muster."
S175: "No reply. Maybe sound doesn't carry that far, or perhaps the "
S176: " rise, hover that little extra bit that gives the distance, and then
drop out of sight."
S177: "Too high up for any scent to carry."
S178: "You smell sweat and dirt and fresh air."
S179: "water"
S180: "some"
S181: "
[Use FILL and the name of a suitable container.]"
S182: "tiles and disappears under the table."
S183: "
The hatch of the small box flips open revealing a black orb.

You should be proud of yourself, having solved this mind-boggling puzzle. And
yet, you feel empty, like a puppeteer's puppet from which the hand had been
withdrawn. Strange words like EXAMINE, INVENTORY, SEARCH jangle in your mind.

"
S184: "- Is that You, Adonai Hashem, guiding my every step? - "
S185: "You ask the air in front of your face and wait for a sign, but nothing
comes. "
S186: "Resigned, you tuck the orb inside the sheets and close the box.
"
S187: "Resigned, you put the orb on the desk and close the box.
"
S188: "
A red fox runs over the scythed field, breathing like a dragon. Its brilliant
tail held high, it disappears into the gully.
"
S189: "In the presence of your father, you'd rather stand."
S190: "You rest a moment, leaning against the balustrade."
S191: "You sit on the bed with your knees pulled up to your chest and dig your
chin inside them, like a turtle drawing into its shell. Shortly you stand up.
Time is scarce."
S192: "Smoothly, like a sail pushed by wind, you enter the bedroom.
"
S193: "That's not something you can dig with."
S194: "You try teasing the wick up, but the wax is hard and unyielding, and
your fingers are soft and plump."
S195: "You free the wick from its waxy prison."
S196: "Human beings are too weak to free Prometheus."
S197: "You dig a hole in the mud, but nothing happens."
S198: "That's not something you can dig."
S199: "You dig a hole in the mud, but nothing happens."
S200: "There's no loose ground to dig in."
S201: "- Good night, sweet Yorick, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
-

"
S202: "You bury beloved Yorick in a small hole in the mud and recite the
hamster kaddish:

"
S203: "- You ate and shat and now you're worms' meat. -

"
S204: "You ponder the futility of life and your brown eyes glaze with tears
that do not fall.

But maybe sweet Yorick's death wasn't in vain? Maybe he will serve a purpose
after all?"
S205: "You already have access to the ledge."
S206: "You hear gulping noises, as if the flower were sucking nourishment from
the mud.

The stem elongates painfully, the leaves extend and the thorns grow before your
very eyes. The crown of the flower reaches up to the ledge."
S207: "You already have access to the ledge."
S208: "You hear gulping noises, as if the morello stone were sucking
nourishment from the mud.

A morello tree grow before your very eyes until it reaches the ledge."
S209: "With nothing to draw sustenance from, the flower does nothing. You pick
up the iron flower and tuck it back into the sheets."
S210: "With nothing to draw sustenance from, the morello stone does nothing.
You pick it up and tuck it back into the sheets."
S211: "You detest physical activity and are frightened of the water. Even the
ferry ride with your father when you visited your grandparents felt precarious
to you. You've never set your foot on a boat and rarely venture into water
higher than your hips."
S212: "You don't see enough water to swim in."
S213: "That's not something you can jump into or out of."
S214: "You've sought your father's praise and approval in everything you did.
Now that he's gone, you're left alone to judge your accomplishments."
S215: "e: bedroom, w: study, ne: mother's bedroom, nw: guest rooms"
S216: "e: bedroom, w: study, ne: mother's bedroom"
S217: "e: bedroom, w: study, ne: mother's bedroom, nw: guest rooms, n: stairs"
S218: "e: bedroom, w: study, ne: mother's bedroom, n: stairs"
S219: "e: bedroom, w: study, nw: guest rooms"
S220: "e: bedroom, w: study, nw: guest rooms, n: stairs"
S221: "s: landing, sw: alcove, nw: pantry"
S222: "Your pudgy fingers do not provide much of a cutting edge."
S223: "You free the wick from its waxy prison."
S224: "You contemplate the banality of senseless destruction."
S225: "You prod the pile of wood with the poker. Sap clings to the flat
circle."
S226: "There's little point in doing that."
S227: "Looking in the mirror you guide the poker to the place on the mural
where the hovering figure should have been. A sudden drop in pressure plays
unpleasant tricks on your ears. The mirror has disappeared, turning the frame
into a doorway giving on to "
S228: "The thought alone fills you with dread."
S229: "The poker reverberates in your hand and a spider web of cracks appears
as your righteous wrath pours out upon the wicked mirror. The cracks slowly
fade away as the mirror returns to its unblemished state."
S230: "Golem giggles as you tickle him with the poker."
S231: "The scratch slowly fades away as the mirror returns to its unblemished
state."
S232: "Sparks fly and the poker reverberates in your hand as your righteous
wrath pours out upon the wicked "
S233: "Water splatters all over your feet as you break the surface with a
mighty blow.

"
S234: "- Serves you right, stupid water. Next time you cross me, I'll have you
whipped. -

"
S235: "For a brief moment, you feel important and powerful."
S236: " provide much of a cutting edge.
"
S237: "You contemplate the banality of senseless destruction."
S238: "You hear muffled voices from behind the mirror."
S239: "You lean forward and strain your hearing, determined to catch every
single word."
S240: "There is no sound here but your breath."
S241: "- Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop. -
"
S242: "The gully is resonant with flies."
S243: "Remaining deathly still, hardly daring to breathe, you strain your
hearing to catch every whiff of sound."
S244: "You smell the musky stench of death."
S245: "A faint aroma of urine wafts from the open cage on the table."
S246: "The dusty, decaying smell of old furniture."
S247: "You distinctly scent the arid smoulder of blown-out candles in the dank
air."
S248: "Your nostrils quiver as you inhale. You scent the air like an animal
searching for prey or mate."
S249: "Your nostrils flare and your chest heaves, but you are unable to pick a
scent from "
S250: "Your double in the mirror returns the gesture."
S251: "You wave at yourself disdainfully."
S252: "You wave at the ferryman, but he ignores you."
S253: "Your reflection returns the gesture."
S254: " as an offering before Jehovah (as Moses commanded) and wait for a sign,
but nothing comes."
S255: "Your ribs perforate your skin, sprouting up spindly legs. With the
complex, octopedal gait of a spider you run across the walls and the ceiling,
leaving a trace of mucus in your wake. Slowly, your imaginings dissipate into
reality.
"
S256: "
You are finally sated. A dessert would be nice now, something fruity, just to
clear the palate."
S257: "Your mother sends you to Rabbi Erlenbusch of Przemysl with a chicken to
bless and slaughter the kosher way. As you are walking with the chicken a
fierce wind comes along and snatches it from your hands. You begin to give
chase until you come upon a donkey washing dishes. Marveling greatly at the
dexterity of the wondrous animal, you linger to see what else the donkey might
do. When the donkey gathers up the clean dishes and departs with them, you
follow, discretely holding on to its tail. You reach a house by whose door the
donkey stops. In your dream you know there is a presence on the other side, a
presence you dread, hungry, yawning, but you push the door open nevertheless.
Inside the house is uncle Jacek, waiting for you. He blesses you, then raises a
knife and says "
S258: "- Leisure and sloth make cowards of us all. And thus the native hue of
resolution is sicklied over with the pale cast of thought; and enterprises of
great pith and moment, their currents turned awry, lose the name of action. -
"
S259: "You have lost your appetite for leisure reading.
"
S260: "Skimming through you pause at drawings done in an old-fashioned stippled
style, men frozen in fencing stances, a woman in an ancient gown, her lips
framing an inaudible scream. You stop at chapter ten. You know it almost by
heart.

"
S261: "- But, continued D'Artagnan, how did you escape? -

- I took advantage of a moment when they left me alone; and as I had known
since morning the reason of my abduction, with the help of the sheets I let
myself down from the window. Then, as I believed my husband would be at home, I
hastened hither. -

"
S262: "Too many nights have been wasted dreaming through idle romances instead
of poring over the Torah and the Talmud, studying the microscopic commentaries
that cover their margins. You close the book and set it down on the
night-table.
"
S263: "You feel strangely relieved, almost cheerful. The decision to commit
suicide puts you in a state of tranquillity which you had not known since your
father's death.

A dense dark encloses your face in an unbreathable cold that clamps your eyes
and chokes your mouth. You want to scream, but your soaring body offers no
platform from which to scream. Ice-cold molten lead pours instead of breath
into your throat and you turn inwards thinking what a terrible mess your
crashing body will make and how embarrassed your mother will be when your
remains are denied a full burial and the mourners won't be allowed to recite
the kaddish. You even have time to reflect on how selfless your last thought is
before darkness closes behind."
S264: "Standing on the bed, you poke one end of the sheets into the flame.

"
S265: "You had not meant to scream, but the pain was so intense that you must
have, since the servants are now pounding at the door.

"
S266: "they plead.

The pain gets much worse as the flames surge up your legs, back, arms, shooting
out from your fingertips and turning your hair into a blazing bush. This time
you are not surprised, and you do not scream. Your nostrils fill with the
stench of scorched flesh and a flaming, peaceful darkness descends over
everything.
"
S267: "You find a spot between the ribs where you can easily reach the heart.

"
S268: "- O, happy yadu! This is thy sheath; there rust and let me die! -
"
S269: "In your mind's eye, the whistling sound of an arrow, the quick tear of
flesh and the sharp pain in your back occur simultaneously.
"
S270: "As you bend over for the kill, one hand holding the lamp and the other
kocked back, clutching the yadu, you are startled by the twin gleam of open
eyes: Oksana is awake. A fierce crab of a hand springs from under the blankets.
Its fingernails are claws digging in the skin of your face, making you hiss
with pain. You want to scream, but a second hand clamps your throat. A forked
tongue uncoils and licks the blood from your eyes and mouth.
"
S271: "- The Babylonian Whore had applied a poisonous ointment to the sides of
my chamber-pot. With a consuming rash, the poison scaled the delicate skin of
my derriere, curdling the blood. The vile nature of the resulting concoction
can not be described, so vile it was, only alluded to, and that only by
comparing it to a mixture of red wine and sour milk. Thus was I, comfortably
perched upon my chamber-pot and suspecting nothing, by your mother's hand of
life dispatched.-

"
S272: "With his arm raised in a theatrical gesture, he turns sideways and
pointing at the suspended skeleton of Sagittarius exclaims:

"
S273: "- Deceit, thy name is woman! O, the abysmal chasms of female perversity!
The deeper I fathom her bottomless villainy, the more I am blinded by the
brilliant gleam of pure evil that shines from within her dark soul. -

"
S274: "The vehement gesture raises the hem of his shirt giving you an
unsolicited glimpse of his hair-darkened buttocks. Realising the unseemliness
of his new stance, he resumes the bending posture and (clasping his hands on
his genitals) faces you anew.
"
S275: "- The lustful she-goat had applied a poisonous ointment to the sides of
my chamber-pot. With a consuming rash, the poison scaled the delicate skin of
my derriere, curdling the blood. The vile nature of the resulting concoction
can not be described, so vile it was, only alluded to, and that only by
comparing it to a mixture of red wine and sour milk. Thus was I, comfortably
perched upon my chamber-pot and suspecting nothing, by your mother's hand of
life dispatched. -
"
S276: "
A small round bug scurries along the edge of the balcony, disappearing behind a
baluster. Out late, alone in the dark. No voice to call him home. Fatherless,
and now motherless.
"
S277: "
Seemingly oblivious of your presence, two sparrows land on the balustrade and
copulate shamelessly. You clear your throat in embarrassment, but the
passionate couple pays no attention. Having finished their business, they take
flight and with a post-coital chirp are swallowed by the night.
"
S278: "
A fire-fly zig-zags between the balusters.
"
S279: "
The artillery falls silent, only to resume a few moments later.
"
S280: "
There is a strange high-pitched call, repeated at regular intervals. Eerie and
stupid, like the cry of some moronic village girl.
"
S281: "
Two lovers whisper gently each to each as they stroll along the street.
"
S282: "
An invisible male quartet passes beneath singing a patriotic song.
"
S283: "
A deep tolling resonates: - quick, quick, slow, quick, slow - and you realise
it's sounding the syllables of your name.
"
S284: "
The sound of breaking glass is followed by a whistle and the patter of feet.
"
S285: "
A drunkard curses as he stumbles down the street.
"
S286: "
A piece of laundry is flapping in the wind on a clothesline somewhere nearby.
"
S287: "
From somewhere down the street music is arising, muffled rhythms in an alien
tongue, repeated in the tireless ecstasy of religious chant.
"
S288: "
Your ears follow the fading whistle of a train, focusing on its vanishing
point.
"
S289: "
You inhale deeply, then exhale, letting your breath out with a light blowing
sound. The steam whirls around you, then floats to the west.
"
S290: "This is the garbage can of the game."
S291: "
From afar you hear the clang of a bell.
"
S292: "
Crackly gramophone music plays in the distance.
"
S293: "
Two or three bars of a chorus are played on a distant piano, over and over
again.
"
S294: "
The clatter of hooves is followed by the high-pitched cry of a horse.
"
S295: "
A cat is yowling from a rooftop nearby.
"
S296: "
The breeze carries the smell of distant fires.
"
S297: "
Muffled by the dense night, the clatter of pots and pans reaches you from
across the street.
"
S298: "
A dog is barking in the distance.
"
S299: "
The tumult of a family quarrel spills from an open window somewhere down the
street.
"
S300: "
An unseen bird sounds a plaintive strain. The warble ends in an upturn, like a
human question.
"
S301: "
A female laughter comes lapping at your ears.
"
S302: "
Voices glint from a distance, but from what direction you can't tell. The
acoustics of the balcony have always been deceptive.
"
S303: "
The jarring sound of dishes being put away reaches you from across the street.
"
S304: "
Leather-soled shoes squeak unappealingly.
"
S305: "
A swell of monotonous music skirls towards you.
"
S306: "
A burst of laughter erupts from the dark.
"
S307: "
The patter of tiny feet is followed by a piercing squeak. For a moment, the
semi-darkness is made alight by the sound of stealthy movements.
"
S308: "
You feel almost weightless, all your senses on tiptoe. Your straining eyes make
out the barely visible outline of a tall piece of furniture.
"
S309: "
The clock strikes eleven. The last chime resounds longer, but still it dies
into silence.
"
S310: "
A gust of wind comes down the chimney, scattering sparks all about."
S311: "You are Samson blinded with desire."
S312: "Formed of dust in the image of Hashem, a descendant of Abraham, one of
the Chosen People, and, more specifically, a corpulent boy, barely twelve and a
half years old, who can't memorise even a fraction of the Torah and is far from
sure of himself.
"
S313: "Your arms are tied behind your back and your face is being smashed
against a rock.
"
S314: "You smell to yourself of sweat and sourdough bread gone stale and dark."
S315: "You listen to your heart pounding."
S316: "Your skin tastes salty, like dried perspiration."
S317: "You are a bit peckish, but not desperate."
S318: "Not even something as outlandish as cannibalism can prick your appetite
back to life."
S319: "No person should devote himself to morbid self-attention."
S320: ""
S321: "Balancing on one leg you hitch your foot and scratch your shin with a
big toe."
S322: ""
S323: "You feel sorry for your penis, bruised and stretched by a regiment of
incessant masturbation.
"
S324: "Your cheeks are full, there is loose flesh under your chin and your arms
and legs are plump.
"
S325: ""
S326: "Your face is bracketed by dangling side curls."
S327: "You pull a side-curl into your mouth and chew it, scowling angrily."
S328: "A good boy lets his side-curls grow and prays on Saturdays."
S329: "Out of idle boredom you play with your side-curls, twirling them
coquettishly around your pudgy fingers."
S330: "the"
S331: "Your knuckles whiten around the railing."
S332: "your"
S333: "A disease eats at your mind."
S334: "  an iron flower"
S335: "The iron flower is equipped with ferocious thorns."
S336: "Carefully avoiding the thorns you rub a leaf between your fingers
releasing a fragrance of rust."
S337: "The hostile tang of blood and semen. Even moss clinging to wet stone
gives off a clear odour.
"
S338: "From a distance, the cave appears dark and empty.
"
S339: "Dark, forbidding, and smells of dank earth.
"
S340: "Long sharp fangs jut out from the stone floor.
"
S341: "You reach out carefully and touch the strange icicles. If you taste your
fingers now, will they be salty, spicy, sweet? All you taste is a mineral
fang."
S342: "You try breaking one off, but it proves beyond your strength."
S343: "You would imagine the sensation to be no less painful than jumping on a
bicycle without a seat."
S344: "Each stone reaches out over the lower until a precisely layered
shoulder-height pyramid seems to defy gravity, balancing precariously on its
apex.
"
S345: "You attempt toppling the pyramid, but it doesn't even budge."
S346: "The stones are wet in places, with a sticky, warm substance."
S347: "You touch one of the boulders and lick your fingers with the tip of your
tongue: the coppery taste of blood."
S348: "Ungainly you try to heave yourself on top of the inverted pyramid, but
years of sloth and culinary over-indulgence have weakened your muscles and made
you heavy."
S349: "Each stone is cut with alternate grooves and projections, so as to fit
immovably into one another.
"
S350: "Shapes chiselled by human hand cover parts of the western wall. In the
foreground seven figures blow trumpets while warriors march, with a fortified
city in the background.
"
S351: "A large section of the wall has collapsed, leaving an entryway to a
dimly lit chamber.
"
S352: "You've already cleared the moss from the wall."
S353: "Fossilised impressions of creatures, whose primordial monstrosity and
reptilian look testify to a reality far older than human minds, peer from the
surface of the rock as you tear the moss. Soon, pre-historic beasts give way to
shapes chiselled by human hand. In the foreground seven figures blow trumpets
while warriors march, with a fortified city in the background."
S354: "You feel the rhythm of centipedes rippling the walls."
S355: "Fossilised impressions of primordial creatures peer at you from the rock
surface.
"
S356: "A procession of warriors led by priests marches around the city walls.
"
S357: "The priests carry what appears to be a large box.
"
S358: "A winged creature with two faces is mounted on each end of the casket.
"
S359: "Their wings cover the sides of the box. Each creature has two faces, the
face of a man and the face of a lion.
"
S360: "Larger than life-size heads stick up above the walls.
"
S361: "Coiled and curled, like rams' horns.
"
S362: "Seven figures in long robes blow trumpets.
"
S363: "The lake doubles the height of the surrounding walls by throwing their
rock upside down into a pit of reflection.
"
S364: "You have nothing to carry water in."
S365: "The memory alone of the icy cold water sends goose-bumps up your legs.
You'd cramp up in an instant."
S366: "The black fluid swallows your feet and ankles like some magically thin
paint. Yet, they emerge the same colour as before, except the toes that have
turned pink from the bite of the ice-cold water."
S367: "It bobs in the water like a fishing cork. You pick the orb up before it
drifts away and tuck it back into the sheets."
S368: "Anything thrown in there would be forever lost."
S369: "You kneel by the lake's edge and stooping break the surface with a
cupped hand. The cold water hurts your teeth."
S370: "Water stands up in ripples as your big toe disappears beneath the
surface. It re-emerges slightly numb and pink, but miraculously whole."
S371: "You lean closer into the cold breath of the water. Your double quivers
as your side-curls touch the surface. This time you see no heart."
S372: "A pair of feverish brown eyes framed by dishevelled dark hair stare from
the surface.
"
S373: "
Having leaned closer you peer through your ghost and see that under the watery
skin are hundreds of tiny veins, like the capillaries on a leaf. And farther
inside, so mottled it comes to you last, hangs a pulsating heart. Fear probes
you: the cold lake is alive.
"
S374: "a pair of"
S375: "  a pair of thick workman's gloves"
S376: "In a few places the original colour shows through, but most of the
fabric is stained with kerosene."
S377: "Your hands begin to sweat. You take the gloves off."
S378: "Thick and tatty with on oily residue."
S379: "You hold them close to your nose and sniff... kerosene."
S380: "A black orb the size of an eyeball and light as a feather.
"
S381: "  a black orb"
S382: "You squeeze the orb with all your might and close your eyes tightly. The
skin of your eyelids shudders as your eyeballs turn, surveying the inner wall
of vision. You see an eye as black as a diamond of pure night. In its many
facets flames are mirrored. The eye has noticed that you have noticed it. It's
focusing on you. You open your eyes, gasping for breath."
S383: "You try to swallow it, but the orb just pops back up on your tongue."
S384: "You roll the orb in your hand, marvelling at its lightness."
S385: "You let the orb rest in the centre of your palm, marvelling at its
lightness."
S386: "In fitting the orb into the eye-socket your hand trembles, pulsing with
unusual exertion, and yet it slides fluidly into the cavity, a perfect fit.

The eye is big, black and gleaming, a diamond of pure night. In its many facets
flames are mirrored.

"
S387: "The black of His eyes is 11500 parasangs across.

"
S388: "A gulping noise and the orb disappears into the rock.

Your mind is working against some force that piles up in waves and then thins
enough for shreds of long-forgotten nightmares to appear before the waves pile
up again. The nightmare mirror?"
S389: ""
S390: "  beloved Yorick, his little head flapping in the speed of your walk
with a corpse's languid wave"
S391: "It would have been so easy for Him, Who set the stars in place, to have
it unhappen, to delete from the universe whatever it was that murdered sweet
Yorick. And yet, He saw it happen and did nothing.

But what use is grief to an orphaned boy? Action is the name of the game."
S392: "You pick up sweet Yorick and hold him in the palm of your hand.

"
S393: "- Alas, poor Yorick! A fellow of infinite appetite and most excellent
fancy. What a piece of work he was! Always ready to sleep! How infinite in
sloth! In form, in moving, how slow and dignified! The paragon of pets! And yet
to me, what is this quintessence of dust? -
"
S394: "His demise is easy to imagine. Having grown tired of the hopeless tedium
of the wheel and resenting his unjust captivity, he had nosed his way to the
landing. There, amid lush gardens of vast rugs and dark forests of furniture
legs, he met his slayer. What he saw must have instilled his tiny heart with
more than mere natural fear. His feet carried him vainly on a mad stampede
towards the dull but secure confinement of cage and wheel. A final squeak
escaped his lips as claws fragrant with murder sprang from darkness.
"
S395: "You have no wish to say anything. You are Job struck with one disaster
after another."
S396: "What use is grief to an orphaned boy? Action is the name of the game."
S397: "You dig your lips into his cold fur.

"
S398: "- Good night, sweet Yorick, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.
-
"
S399: "Limp and empty, like a blintz whose filling had been sucked dry."
S400: "Silent and motionless, like a glove from which the hand had been
withdrawn."
S401: "Musty whiffs spring from the already decaying body and dart deep into
your nasal passages."
S402: "You carefully pick beloved Yorick up and wrap his languid body in
winding sheet."
S403: "No potion known to man can wake him from this slumber."
S404: "You take a cautious peek: a space scarcely wide enough for one body."
S405: "Your eyes dart from the candle to the fireplace."
S406: "Your eyes dart from the candle to the fireplace."
S407: "Flowers weave over and under hugging the walls which still remember
vanished paintings and mirrors by rectangular and oval ghosts of lesser
discoloration.
"
S408: "Scarred by cracks and wrinkles like old skin that has lost its
suppleness but retains the lines formed by frowns and smiles."
S409: "Bringing the lamp to the wall, you examine the wallpaper with great
care, as if attempting to uncover some great secret hidden in the hieroglyphics
of cracks and scratched lines."
S410: "You think your senses are deceiving you, and inhale again. "
S411: "The scent is overpowering, as if thousands of leaves were being rubbed
between invisible fingers."
S412: "A tall cabinet cleft between darkness and dusk stands at the northern
end of the landing.
"
S413: "It's a cabinet in body, except the feet which are taloned with long
toes, too long to be lions' paws.
"
S414: "Solid and soft with that placid semblance of life that only wood
retains."
S415: "A strong smell of mothballs wafts out of the open cabinet."
S416: "This is scarcely the time for hide-and-seek."
S417: "You hesitate before poking your fingers into the nest, that turns under
your touch to dead cloth, safe.

You feel around in the darkness, brushing against coats and shoes and things
you can't identify in the dark, searching. Behind a stack of linen you find a
row of objects wrapped in towels. You unwrap the first one, and the second and
find that their insides rustle: glasses stuffed with crumpled wads of paper.
One of the wrapped objects has a different shape than the others.

You are not quite sure what this is. It can't be a drinking glass, since it has
no bottom. It's a cylinder, made of thin glass, narrow at the top, rounded into
a bulb at the bottom.

Emergency ear-horn for the hearing impaired?

Glass trumpet?

"
S418: "- It must have a rational purpose! - "
S419: "you murmur, toying with the mysterious contraption in your hands.

Bit by bit, like the Gematria of an angelic name assembling itself in mid-air,
it comes to you.

"
S420: "Careful not to break the delicate glass, you gently tuck the
lamp-chimney inside the knotted sheets.
"
S421: "You put the lamp-chimney on the two-legged table.
"
S422: "Coats and shoes and things you can't identify in the dark."
S423: "Shoes stuffed with boot-trees, coats and sweaters of many weights, in
all degrees of wear."
S424: "You unwad one of the old newspapers used for stuffing the glasses tucked
away in the cabinet. Fragments of stories decades out of date, with
illustrations of heroines in outdated fashion and gossipy references to
forgotten theatre actresses now long dead and buried, unfold as you spread the
crackling paper on the table. The faded remnants of life remind you that death
will not overlook you. You crumple the paper into a ball and toss it back into
the cabinet."
S425: "Behind a stack of linen, wrapped in towels, you find a lamp-chimney.

"
S426: "Careful not to break the delicate glass, you gently tuck the
lamp-chimney inside the knotted sheets.
"
S427: "You put the lamp-chimney on the two-legged table.
"
S428: "Clothes, shoes, stacks of linen; the detritus of every-day life."
S429: "Inside the cabinet is a nest of darkness."
S430: "Tiny wings flutter making raucous notes. The pungent smell of mothballs
fills the air. Inside the cabinet is a nest of darkness."
S431: "The mundane detritus of everyday life. Worldly things of little
consequence."
S432: "Dead trees rest on paws that will never run. A crude mockery of life.
"
S433: "Moths circle the naked flame, flirting with death.
"
S434: "Moths circle the naked flame, flirting with death.
"
S435: "A pear-shaped glass enclosure that helps control the flow of air to and
around the lamp burner."
S436: "  a lamp-chimney"
S437: "A glass enclosure is already mounted on the burner."
S438: "Clumsily, like a bear pawing a beehive, you fiddle with the lamp until
you finally fasten the chimney.
"
S439: "The currents would extinguish the flame."
S440: "Hands shaking, you fumble repeatedly before tucking the lamp chimney
back into the sheets. The flame leans to one side, its gleam circles the room,
sliding along the walls. Then, it steadies itself and grows."
S441: "You tuck the chimney inside the sheets."
S442: "You set the chimney on the two-legged table."
S443: "Your breath throws the flame crackling to one side. A gleam circles the
room, sliding along the walls."
S444: "The flame flickers but does not vanish."
S445: "You let the flame lick at your flesh."
S446: "The wooden frame that once enclosed the mirror now serves as a doorway
giving on "
S447: "Inching closer, you peek down into the shaft only to be greeted by a
rush of stale air. You see no bottom, but know that the pit that opens beneath
you is no deeper than your own death."
S448: "- Pointless... - you mumble under your breath."
S449: "The paint flakes away under your touch."
S450: "You quickly wipe the footprints off.
"
S451: "You look in the crevice. The orb is wedged deep inside, out of reach."
S452: "You cry out with the pleasure of discovery: a whistle, long embedded in
the earth.
"
S453: "An ancient whistle, long embedded in the earth.
"
S454: "a whistle being held"
S455: "Strangely enough, the ferryman doesn't react."
S456: "You throw the whistle away. It disappears out of sight."
S457: "the"
S458: "You turn your head sharply and stare to the north. The lift is still
there."
S459: "the"
S460: "Dribbles of sperm cover her fanning spread of hair.
"
S461: "Bluebells luxuriate quietly in the sun, indifferent to Isaac's and
Rebecca's tragedy.
"
S462: "- What pretty girl are you growing for? -

"
S463: "With the mute malice of brainless life, the bluebells ignore you."
S464: "Golem stares and hugs the ledge with his shoulder-blades. You wonder
what he's puzzling about.
"
S465: "Your educated accent and formal manner elicit a murmur of enchantment
from Golem, as if you were an organ-grinder come to the chamber with the sole
purpose of entertaining its inhabitant. As you continue to speak, Golem claps
his hands and roars, unable to control his joy."
S466: "Golem grunts with pleasure as you cuddle his belly."
S467: "Golem attempts to join you in song, but somehow the duet doesn't work."
S468: "Golem looks down on you with a spreading smile of self-conscious
impudence.

"
S469: "  a morello stone"
S470: "A deer lies at the water's edge with its entrails spilling out in a grey
heap.
"
S471: "The cadaver is still slightly stiff. Rigor mortis hasnt fully evolved
into decay yet."
S472: "The musty perfume of decaying flesh."
S473: "The deer's entrails are already spilling out."
S474: "That would be hard to accomplish."
S475: "You try pulling the deer higher up on shore, but your strength is
spent."
S476: "The deer looks directly at you, with his great bulging eyes, as
vulnerable as bubbles of jelly a stray needle might prick.
"
S477: "Entrails and a deflated stomach.
"
S478: "They are not something you can open or close."
S479: "There are muscles attached to the stomach. They seem to function as a
sphincter, or maybe a valve."
S480: "a deer's stomach being held with both hands"
S481: "You must drop whatever you are holding before you can take the stomach."
S482: "You grab the stomach with both hands."
S483: "You drop the stomach back into the heap of entrails."
S484: "A shudder of nausea sweeps over you as you press your lips against the
decaying flesh.

"
S485: "- What force compels me to do these things! Am I a circus to some cruel
child's enjoyment? -

"
S486: "You wipe your mouth, but death remains on your lips."
S487: "A bit slippery, but the surface of the muscles is uneven enough to
provide a good hold."
S488: "The branch you climbed out on is within reach.
"
S489: "The branch is strong enough to be stood upon."
S490: "You can see the back of his head.
"
S491: "The crown of the flower reaches up to the ledge.
"
S492: "A huge iron flower rises from the mud, its crown reaching the ledge.
"
S493: "Beneath your fingers, you feel the sap slowly rising, the roots seeking
nourishment within the mud."
S494: "A morello tree rises from the mud, its branches reaching the ledge.
"
S495: "The tree smells deeply of earth and mud."
S496: "You touch the rough bark, to give yourself the small answer of a
texture."
S497: "The rock fits comfortably in the palm of your hand.
"
S498: "a rock being held"
S499: "You watch the rock rise, hover that little extra bit that gives the
distance, and then drop out of sight."
S500: "Though baked by the sun, the stone feels cooler than the air."
S501: "A tiny vase that can hold a few flowers, but is currently empty.
"
S502: "  a tiny vase"
S503: "You wonder what substance the tiny vase is. It doesn't feel smooth and
cool, like glass or ceramic, or have a grain, like wood, or any rims, like
metal would. Nor is it warm and abrasive, like earthenware."
S504: "a"
S505: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S506: "Meticulous columns scribbled in pen. The light here is too dim to make
them out."
S507: "--------------------------
| Al    1      Lm     30 |
| Bh    2      Mm     40 |
| Gm    3      Nu     50 |
| Dl    4      Sm     60 |
| He    5      Ay     70 |
| Va    6      Pe     80 |
| Za    7      Tz     90 |
| Ch    8      Kf    100 |
| Te    9      Re    200 |
| Yd   10      Sh    300 |
| Kh   20      Th    400 |
--------------------------

"
S508: "On the back of the chart is an old exercise.

"
S509: "Ch  Va  Ch  Ay      Mm  Ay  Bh  Lm  Al
 8   6   8  70      40  70   2  30   1

 8+6+8+70 = 92       40+70+2+30+1 = 143"
S510: "  a neatly folded Gematria Chart"
S511: "[Try LOOK UP <NAME OF LETTER> IN CHART]."
S512: "There is no such letter in the Holy Tongue."
S513: "You watch calmly as fire races to digest the carefully scripted columns
lain down on the thick yellowed paper."
S514: "Stained and brittle, so often folded that it threatens to fall apart at
its creases."
S515: "You fold the chart neatly and tuck it inside the sheets."
S516: "You clutch the railing with white knuckles. Your breath is visible as
steam. It whirls and sways in the westward breeze, floating in the direction of
your bedroom. The night is lit with stars and flashes of distant artillery
fire."
S517: "You stand leaning against the balustrade. Your breath is visible as
steam. It whirls and sways in the westward breeze, floating in the direction of
your bedroom. The night is lit with stars and flashes of distant artillery
fire."
S518: "The night is lit with stars and flashes of distant artillery fire. An
unseasonably cool breeze rubs against your naked calves. Light sifts from your
bedroom to the west."
S519: "You peer over the balustrade looking down on the street below; it's too
high to jump. There are no trees or water-pipes within reach, nothing that
would allow you to climb down."
S520: "Smoothly, like a sail pushed by wind, you enter the bedroom.
"
S521: "Smoothly, like a sail pushed by wind, you enter the bedroom.
"
S522: "You peer over the balustrade looking down on the street below; it's too
high to jump. There are no trees or water-pipes within reach, nothing that
would allow you to climb down."
S523: "The wall is smooth, providing no holds or protruding surfaces on which
to climb."
S524: "Your father indicates that he wishes you to hear him out."
S525: "The sky is so vast and branched, as if it had fallen apart, broken into
pieces and divided itself into a labyrinth of separate heavens."
S526: "You search the shining multitudes for the very dim stir of light that
your father once pointed out to you as another galaxy altogether. But the stars
have wheeled out of all recognition. They are as if seen from another earth,
rich in silence and strangeness. Only Sagittarius remains unscathed."
S527: "The sky is so vast and branched, as if it had fallen apart, broken into
pieces and divided itself into a labyrinth of separate heavens, each assigned
to a different denominational body.
"
S528: "
With your face lifted heavenward, looking into the scattered gravel of stars,
you exclaim pathetically:

"
S529: "- Was this merely a figment of imagination playing a malicious mockery
on my senses, or was this truly the ghost of my father imploring me to kill my
mother? Speak, you stars! -

"
S530: "The stars respond with dignified silence. The other presence, the
balustrade, retains its precise shape, like an unimpressed judge.

"
S531: "A tree ostentatiously rustles its leaves, as if to avoid overhearing.
"
S532: "You shake your fist at the heavenly vault. The stars remain blazing and
inflexible."
S533: "A nebula just below the bow of Sagittarius testifies to a cosmic
upheaval eons ago."
S534: "Just a faint blur."
S535: "the"
S536: "The moon, the stars, wet rooftops and distant artillery fire. The rest
is soaked up by darkness."
S537: "Distant flashes are followed by soft, thudding thunder."
S538: "The wind smells of distant fires."
S539: "You see them somehow dimly, as if the trees haven't gathered to
themselves the force that makes a silhouette.
"
S540: "You hear the trees sigh, exhaling oxygen."
S541: "the"
S542: "Distant flashes are followed by soft, thudding thunder."
S543: ""
S544: "Steam vents from your nostrils; it curls and rises and falls, tracing
letters from some unknown alphabet."
S545: "Your meddling hand dissipates the fine eddies and tangles that curl
around your breath."
S546: "the"
S547: "Light sifts from your bedroom to the west.
"
S548: "The wall is smooth, providing no holds or protruding surfaces on which
to climb."
S549: "the"
S550: "An ornamental rail supported by a set of balusters runs along the outer
edge of the balcony.
"
S551: "The thought alone gives you vertigo."
S552: "The metal feels cold beneath your clammy grip."
S553: "The rust tastes almost like blood."
S554: "The rust smells of wet straw gone fusty."
S555: "Wrought-iron flowers cling to the balusters and the railing.
"
S556: "An ornamental rail supported by a set of balusters runs along the outer
edge of the balcony.
"
S557: "Still blooming as freshly as they had done a century ago.
"
S558: "The wrought-iron flowers are equipped with ferocious thorns."
S559: "You cringe in pain and growl several unprintable words. The wrought-iron
flowers are equipped with ferocious thorns."
S560: "The stems wilt and the petals catch a breeze. Before you tuck the flower
inside the sheets and take the gloves off, her sisters are gone."
S561: "Carefully avoiding the thorns you rub a leaf between your fingers
releasing a fragrance of rust."
S562: "the"
S563: "Your dead father stands before you."
S564: "You ignore the bestially bared body and concentrate on his face, pale
and rigid."
S565: "He's wearing nothing but a shirt that stops where it should begin to be
of any significance. In shame, he bends and pulls at it in a futile attempt to
cover his genitals. "
S566: "

Your father had died while relieving himself in the middle of the night,
wearing only a shirt. Do the rules of haunting not require the apparition to be
an exact replica of its earthly original at the moment of death, no matter how
awkward and unseemly? Is it not true that ghosts of decapitated men spend an
eternity carrying their heads under their arms? And yet, for all its coherence,
you resent the trivially exacting logic of afterlife which forces your father
to humiliate himself in this manner.
"
S567: "
- The balances of good and evil are askew. -"
S568: " Your father lifts one hand from his crotch and, speaking in a calm but
forceful tone, begins to tap emphasis on the railing with a scrawny forefinger.
"
S569: "- Unless the beast redeems her wicked deed with her life, I will be
doomed for eternity to walk the night in this unseemly apparel. You do not have
to kill Jacek. Your mother was no doubt the driving force behind my untimely
demise. Such a perfidious plot could have taken root only in the fiendish mind
of a she-devil. -"
S570: "- Besides, are Jacek's wife and children not punishment enough? -"
S571: " His lips curl into a spiteful smile.
"
S572: "- you must bring me a book. Although she has no conception of its true
power, she may at least have some idea of what this book can do in the right
hands. -

"
S573: "His pace quickens, as if he were out of breath.

"
S574: "- I can not venture into details. You must bring it before tonight
becomes tomorrow. I will be waiting in the park, by Mickiewicz. -"
S575: "

He unfurls his arms in a hieratic gesture, one foot slightly advanced, like a
phallic figure in a primitive sacrifice. With his arms raised, he takes a step
back and is swallowed by blackness.
"
S576: "

As the spite and vindictiveness that had shown in his pulsating veins and
curled lips recede into indifference, the tension which had held his features
concentrated irons out. Piece by piece, his narrow eyes, fleshy lips and yellow
teeth become absent until finally he fades away altogether.
"
S577: " The sentence is never finished. A horn clamours out of the darkness,
harsh and urgent, a hunter calling lost hounds. Turning your head in the
direction of the sound, you stare into blackness. When you look back at your
father, he is no longer there.
"
S578: "he continues, the veins in his throat bulging "
S579: "he continues, flecks of foam appearing in the corners of his mouth "
S580: "ointment to the sides of my chamber-pot. With a consuming rash, the
poison scaled the delicate skin of my derriere and curdled my blood. The vile
nature of the resulting concoction can not be described, so vile it was, only
alluded to, and that only by comparing it to a mixture of red wine and sour
milk.-

"
S581: "With his arm raised in a theatrical gesture, he turns sideways and
pointing at the suspended skeleton of Sagittarius exclaims:

"
S582: "- Deceit, thy name is woman! O, the abysmal chasms of female perversity!
The deeper I fathom her bottomless villainy, the more I am blinded by the
brilliant gleam of pure evil that shines from within her dark soul. -

"
S583: "With his arms raised in a theatrical gesture, as if summoning the stars
to bear witness, he exclaims:

"
S584: "- O, Adonai Hashem, be not silent! She has spoken to me with lying
tongues and repaid me evil for good and hatred for love. Raise up a vengeful
angel and let it tear out her eyes and heart so that her shrieks may untie the
knot of evil and close up her filthy cunt! -

"
S585: "The vehement gesture raises the hem of his shirt giving you an
unsolicited glimpse of his hair-darkened buttocks. Realising the unseemliness
of his new stance, he resumes the bending posture and (clasping his hands on
his genitals) faces you anew.
"
S586: "
- My little dear one, something is rotten in the House of Pudlo. -

"
S587: "His voice rings somehow out of synch with the movements of his mouth and
jaw. The impression of artificiality is reinforced by his unblinking eyes in
which you see your miniature reflection, as if looking in the reversed end of a
telescope.

"
S588: "- You must revenge my foul and most unnatural murder! -

- Murder? -"
S589: " you exclaim. He beckons you to silence. "
S590: "- Yes, my dear boy, that shameless, that adulterate beast known to you
as "Mother" has murdered me in connivance with Jacek, with whom she has been
indulging in fornication since Shabbat Shekalim. -
"
S591: "He's substantial. You know that already."
S592: "Finding your father substantial, you quickly withdraw your hand. The
faintest ghost of a smile touches his lips."
S593: "You already have your father's blessing."
S594: "You fall on your knees and clasping his feet burst out in a loud cry.

"
S595: "- Bless me, my father, in Whose sight I am a mouse in the gaze of a
lion! -

"
S596: "He motions you to stand up and hugging you kisses your forehead softly.

"
S597: "- May He who blessed our fathers bless you with courage. -

"
S598: "A gust of breath sweetly rank with the fumes of decay envelops your
face.
"
S599: "He is not a man to be trifled with."
S600: "The thought alone fills you with dread."
S601: "You are a bit peckish, but not desperate."
S602: "Disgust must be evident on your face, for your father draws forth a vial
of scented water and applies its contents to his neck and wrists."
S603: "Such insolence would not pass with impunity."
S604: "- First, let me speak my piece. -
"
S605: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S606: "- A sick man must vomit or grow sicker. The cancer that eats at the core
of our House must be expunged. -
"
S607: "Impatience pushes little bubbles into the corners of his mouth as he
heaves a stagy sigh.

"
S608: "- Haven't you been paying attention? -
"
S609: "- There is no fathoming her devious designs. She is a cancer that grows
of her own mad purposes. -

"
S610: "Flashes of distant artillery fire reflect in his unblinking eyes.

"
S611: "- I only wish she could die more than once. There are crimes that demand
more than a single death. -
"
S612: "His voice takes an almost bitter timbre.

"
S613: "- How weak is female nature and how soon is she tempted aside by greed
and lust! Had her head been as well furnished with knowledge as her loins with
goatish lust and her tongue with deceit, she would have been more erudite than
Deborah and wiser than the wisest of rabbis. -

"
S614: "He pauses, as if making a space for your comment. As you remain silent
he continues, his voice grave with conviction.

"
S615: "- The sooner she dies, the sooner I will rest in peace. -

- She is my mother and I love her! -"
S616: " you instinctively recoil from the prospect of matricide.

A deathly stench blows from your father's mouth as he draws closer.

"
S617: "- It is beautiful and naive of you, but she deserves no love. -

"
S618: "He reaches out to smooth a strand of hair from your forehead.

"
S619: "- The female scorpion devours her lover in the throes of post-coital
euphoria, but at least she cares enough for her young to feed them. Your mother
has no more feeling for you than for her own faeces. -
"
S620: "- Women flock to him like flies to faeces. He is much more profoundly
perverted than you could possibly bring yourself to suspect. -
"
S621: "You still can't bring yourself to believe that uncle Jacek would do such
a thing.

"
S622: "- This snake-tongued, incestuous toad will no doubt heckle and
contradict my account. Stay out of his way, or the witchcraft of his wit might
turn you around. -
"
S623: "His eyes and features remain impassive, but you hear contempt twist his
voice.

"
S624: "- Although begotten by the same father, born of the same mother and
reared in the same faith, your uncle and I have as much in common as Abel and
Cain. He lives by night - "
S625: "- indulging in carnal pursuits a righteous man would shudder at. It is
said his lasciviousness extends to goats... of both sexes. - "
S626: "Disbelief must be evident on your face, for his eyebrows jiggle as if on
fish-hooks and his hair bristles with rage.

"
S627: "- Mark my words when I say that there is an absolutely hellish machine
at work here, operating with infallible certainty at the precise moment when I
was the most vulnerable! -

- I don't understand, uncle Jacek would never... - "
S628: "you interject tentatively.

Suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder digging in your flesh with a claw-like
grip.

"
S629: "- I do not ask you to understand. - "
S630: "His eyes bore gravely into yours. "
S631: "- All I ask you is to believe. - "
S632: "Somewhat embarrassed by his outburst, he removes his hand and continues.
"
S633: "- Like the spider motionless at the centre of his web, Jacek may appear
harmless to a naive child. Be it as it may. Your misguided love for your uncle
is of little consequence here. It was your mother who was the driving force
behind my untimely demise. It is she who must pay. -
"
S634: "- Deceit and corruption; in every woman, all women. -
"
S635: "- Eve let herself be seduced by the serpent. Gomer the Harlot betrayed
Hosea. Bathsheba committed adultery with King David and conspired to kill her
husband. I could go on and on. This is why a wise man refers to womankind only
with the profoundest distaste. -
"
S636: "- They defile its secrets in jaded orgies of ageing flesh conducted in
the Master's name. Charlatans! -
"
S637: "his voice drops by an octave or more.

"
S638: "- Only what I gathered from bits of rumours and shreds of whispered
conversations. -

"
S639: "The universe crackles and branches as your mind creates a world in which
the lie you just told is true.

"
S640: "- What she can not poison, fuck or deceive, has no existence for her. It
is Jacek who covets it. He has read from this book, yes, but has no conception
of its true power. - "
S641: "His lips move slightly out of synch as he concludes: "
S642: "- For some time now he has been entertaining his coven of whores with
cheap tricks he learned when glimpsing the secrets of its pages. -
"
S643: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S644: "- Hunter and prey participate equally in the mystery of death. Poison
and medicine are the same extract. Darkness and light are one. - "
S645: "As the words ring, his eyebrows lift rigidly and the corners of his
mouth draw sternly downwards.
"
S646: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S647: "- A fortunate marriage has provided him with enough money to indulge his
obscenities. Jego zona jest nadziana fors$ jak p$czek marmolad$. -

"
S648: "The Polish nasals cut through his Yiddish like a blaze of trombones
through a Hebrew chant.
"
S649: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S650: "He removes one hand from his crotch and extending it despairingly, palm
up, announces to his audience of one:

"
S651: "- Worthless trinkets. The vanities our age considers important. -

"
S652: "The terseness of his response discourages you from pursuing the topic
any further.
"
S653: "- They made evil music with their moans and gasps, copulating
shamelessly in our marital bed! -
"
S654: "- An unholy alliance was forged to the brainless rhythm of thrust and
counterthrust. -
"
S655: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S656: "- Man is to woman a testimony of what God is to Man and woman is to Man
what Man is to God. -
"
S657: "- What is more likely to raise a blush, bared genitals or murder? What
is in worse taste, being a naked ghost or a murderess?-
"
S658: "He raises his hands in despair.

"
S659: "- Look at the pathetic limp wreck death has made of my beloved genitals!
-
"
S660: "- What is lust but a swamp in which the spirit drowns? What is
debauchery but a deep well out of which Man stares at the impossible sun:
freedom? -
"
S661: "- She has repaid me evil for good and hatred for love. -
"
S662: "- What is war, but cunning, deception, delusion, attack and surprise?
Your mother's very element! -
"
S663: "- She has declared war on her own flesh and blood! -
"
S664: "Threat is imminent in his voice.

"
S665: "- Woe to those who debar others from the path of vengeance and seek to
make it crooked. -
"
S666: "- Your thinking is sentimental, lacking in foresight and resolution;
your mind enthusiastic, if a trifle slow and short on finesse; your Hebrew that
of one who can only think in Yiddish. Otherwise, there is little to complain
of. -

"
S667: "Through a crack in his cupped hands you glimpse his languid penis.
"
S668: "- The hour when I must render up myself to sulphurous and tormenting
flames is almost come. -

- Poor ghost! -

- Pity me not, but lend your serious hearing to what I shall unfold.
"
S669: "- It is a place where few want to be, yet all must come. -

"
S670: "A shudder passes through him, like a wriggling fish.

"
S671: "- I could unfold a tale whose lightest word would harrow up your soul,
freeze your young blood, and make each particular hair on your body stand on
end. It is a tale not meant for ears of flesh and blood. -
"
S672: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic has
exhausted its usefulness for him."
S673: "- She reduced me to a ghost, a counterfeit flesh, a phantasmal creature
on the borderline of substance and illusion, of life and death. -

"
S674: "Beneath his bushy eyebrows his eyes roll back and forth, as if expecting
an eavesdropper to be standing by.
"
S675: "With a gesture of impatience your father indicates that the topic holds
little interest for him."
S676: "The powerful stench of stale cheese arises from his crotch."
S677: "Strange thoughts enter your mind."
S678: "There is a fishy glaze to the whites of his eyes."
S679: "He pulls at the shirt in a futile attempt to cover his genitals."
S680: "Your entrance disturbs the air. The flame undergoes a struggle and the
furniture and walls stagger and billow. Mad shadows scurry across the room
leaping from the bed to the night-table and back again, until finally settling
in the folds of swaying curtains."
S681: "You turn your head slowly, gaining a panoramic view of the interior:
bed, lamp, swaying curtains, large unseen portion of the room to the west.
Nothing reflects irregularity. Nothing, except the open cage on the
night-table.
"
S682: "You awake covered in a coat of moisture, convinced of your death.
Looking for a sign of life you make your toes wiggle. Surely, dead people don't
wiggle their toes?

Yet, having faced the full plausibility of sacrificial death, you are unable to
immediately re-enter the illusion of security. Heavy as lead you lie on the
thinnest of ice, before finally rising from the bed.
"
S683: "You awake to the sound of the clock striking, holding the book in a
tremulous grip. As the twelfth chime dies away, sweet certainty invades your
mind: "
S684: "Time is vital, your father is waiting.
"
S685: "
The curtains billow in like the sails of a ship scudding into the room."
S686: "
The breeze grows stronger and the curtains sway in sympathy."
S687: "
The curtains expand and contract, like the stomach of some creature that hasn't
eaten for centuries."
S688: "
The sharp wedge of a headache cuts through your temples. The pain subsides,
like a disease that declines to kill, playing with you to pass the time."
S689: "
You shut your eyes. Bright zig-zags and intricate shapes linger brightly on
your retinas, as if a diamond on an unseen hand were etching your inner dark
with the characters of an alien alphabet."
S690: "
Are you imagining things, or is there a stirring, a tiny dry groan, from under
the bed?"
S691: "It is an offence against Hashem to go bareheaded."
S692: "the"
S693: "Through the crack in the curtains you glimpse the night outside."
S694: "the"
S695: "You listen by the door, but hear nothing except the draught whistling
through the landing."
S696: "The flicker of uncertain light thrown by a kerosene lamp plays on the
folds as the curtains sway flapping in the breeze. Now and then they bulge out
in the wind and their hems brush a night table.
"
S697: "You idly consider ripping the curtains down."
S698: "The curtains flap idly in the wind."
S699: "A quite breeze flows into the room as you peer through the crack in the
curtains."
S700: "Pushing the curtains aside you stand a moment looking out into the night
sky."
S701: " you conclude rubbing its grainless texture between finger and thumb."
S702: "You give in to temptation and closing your eyes let your cheek brush
against the fabric. Liquid and cool, like water running clear on a hot summer
day."
S703: "A simple and elegant night-table with a drawer in the front.
"
S704: "A sense of relief, of being spared some horrible visitation, sweeps over
you as you discover nothing but dust under the night-table."
S705: "It's unlikely to support your weight."
S706: "A lighter, out-of-order, little inventions, magic tricks, "
S707: "The Adventures of Baron von Munchausen"
S708: ", an old explorer's account in splotched bindings: useless trifles.
Finding nothing worth taking, you close the drawer.
"
S709: "The solidity of wood, the smoothness of veneer, certainties. But there
is something else, something less obvious. A helpless current passes beneath
the surface of forced elegance. Putting your ear against it you hear creaks and
sighs. Though crippled and crucified, the wood is still breathing.
"
S710: "a yarmulke perched on your head at a dashing tilt"
S711: "Without the dashing tilt of your yarmulke, you'll just have your good
looks and charm to go on. No, the tilt stays as it is."
S712: "It is an offence against Hashem to go bareheaded."
S713: "You carefully adjust the yarmulke on your head, making sure it hasn't
lost its dashing tilt."
S714: "You are a bit peckish, but not desperate."
S715: "You perch the yarmulke on your head at a dashing tilt, giving you that
dangerous, unpredictable look that you know women simply can't resist. Who's
going to call you "effeminate sissy" now! A boost of confidence surges through
your body. Now you only have to find the book."
S716: "The mirror swims with shapes and colours.
"
S717: "You flinch from the unpleasant contact.
"
S718: "You remember your father telling you how peasants kill wolves by leaving
knives in ice heaped with gobs of fat. A wolf finds the knife, licks it with
numbed tongue until the tongue is ripped to pieces, and bleeds to death."
S719: "You turn it in your fingers, watching the flame send shattered colours
over its surface. No visible joints, no seams, no hinges."
S720: "A nightmare opens up like a complicated flower in the night and you
begin to drift away from this world on a limp tether.

"
S721: "A bird cries out, and you enter a still deeper layer of nightmare. It's
the middle of the afternoon, in the heat, at the mouth of a gully. Even in the
suspended seconds between nightmare and reality, you feel the weight of the
sun's pressing force and know at once where you are.
"
S722: "A glaze begins to overlay your vision and a nightmare opens up like a
complicated flower in the night.
"
S723: "The nightmare mirror wouldn't do much good outside of your bedroom."
S724: "A page keeps lifting one corner in the draught, as if begging to be
read."
S725: "Too many nights have been wasted dreaming through idle romances instead
of poring over the Torah and the Talmud."
S726: "Putting your ear to the pages, you riffle them with your thumb."
S727: "You let your fingertips run over the leather binding."
S728: "Salt and copper, followed by a smoky after-taste."
S729: "The dusty familiar scent of the hardback."
S730: "This mundane intrigue couldn't possibly have been the book your father
spoke of."
S731: "The door is open and wood shavings from inside are scattered on the
table. Inside the cage is a running wheel.
"
S732: "Pointless, now that he has escaped his captivity."
S733: "The tiny bars are spaced so close you can't even squeeze a finger
through."
S734: "It would be far too cumbersome to carry around."
S735: "Seeds lie mixed with wood shavings and secretion. Inside the cage is a
running wheel."
S736: "You have a cage of your own, of sorts."
S737: "What for? Death is irrevocable. The times when the squeal of the running
wheel would put you to sleep, when you played with him in your bed, or just
watched him nose around your bedroom will never return."
S738: "You wouldn't want to intrude on Yorick's private space."
S739: "He soon grew bored of the strenuous exercise. You let him nose around
the bedroom, hoping it would alleviate his captivity."
S740: "

Where is Yorick? Has he chosen freedom over bondage? Has he reverted to his
primal nature, hunting in packs of wild hamsters, fighting other males for
food, mates and dominance? Freedom, the will to power and frenzied night-time
matings; your brown eyes flicker with the attempted vision."
S741: "Take away the instrument of amusement, and what is left is a prison."
S742: "Magnified by its shadows, you sometimes see it run across the walls and
the ceiling. Occasionally, it descends into the lower regions of the room.
"
S743: "You are a bit peckish, but not desperate."
S744: "Quick and mobile while on its feet, the creature shares with all roaches
the characteristic that when turned on its back it becomes stationary and
defenceless. Is it not sad and pitiful to watch it rotate around its axis, its
legs moving desperately and to no avail?

Overcome by an irresistible fascination, you bring the hideous deformity closer
to your eyes. The creature struggles for a few seconds and then goes limp. It's
frozen in terror. No sensory organs are visible. No eyes, no feelers, nothing
that resembles a head, just a carcass on legs. You set it down on the floor. It
zig-zags away from you at double speed, no doubt trying to eradicate the memory
of its humiliating capture.
"
S745: "Waves of nausea shake your entire body."
S746: "
You jump up with disgust as spindly legs run across your naked foot. With the
complex octopedal gait of a spider, the headless carcass of a roach-like
creature disappears into a dark corner.
"
S747: "A muscular being of indeterminate gender springs from waist up out of
the wall. Its intent eyes are concentrated purely on the physical problem of
clasping a burning lamp in its outstretched hands, never flinching under its
weight."
S748: "
The flame rises trembling in the air. Now and again a persistent insect flies
round, in, round and away."
S749: "
With alarming speed a large moth dashes at the naked flame, repeatedly and
frantically, until it burns up."
S750: "
The flame shrinks to its blue root before regaining its erect shape."
S751: "Its expression doesn't change a millimetre."
S752: "You stroke its face, half-expecting the bronze to turn to flesh."
S753: "You listen to the wick sucking in the kerosene."
S754: "You pull at the sconce, hoping that the being will reveal what is hidden
under its waist. It doesn't budge, flirtatiously concealing its sex."
S755: "Around its eyes and at the corners of its mouth a vague smile acquires
form."
S756: "A kerosene lamp fixed into a sconce above the bed tosses dense shadows
everywhere."
S757: " Mounted on the lamp is a glass funnel."
S758: "The sconce's grip around the lamp is tight. For a moment you stare at
each other; it will never let go."
S759: "Hot, velvety and furious with the motion of atoms."
S760: "You listen to the wick sucking in the kerosene."
S761: "Your breath throws the flame crackling to one side. A gleam circles the
room, sliding along the walls."
S762: "A glass funnel blown in the shape of leaves emits a trembling glow.
"
S763: "A glass funnel blown in the shape of leaves and resembling a trumpet.
"
S764: "  a glass funnel"
S765: "A glass enclosure is already mounted on the burner."
S766: "With clammy fingers you fasten the funnel on the lamp.
"
S767: "Not in here. The currents would extinguish the flame."
S768: "Hands shaking, you fumble repeatedly before tucking the glass funnel
back into the sheets. The flame leans to one side, its gleam circles the room,
sliding along the walls. Then, it steadies itself and grows."
S769: "You tuck the funnel inside the sheets."
S770: "You set the funnel on the two-legged table."
S771: "You wince as you touch the hot glass."
S772: "The flame leans to one side, its gleam circles the room, sliding along
the walls. Then, it steadies itself and grows. You tuck the funnel inside the
sheets and take the gloves off."
S773: "You wince as you touch the hot glass."
S774: "Straining up and stretching your tongue till it aches you almost reach
the scorching hot glass."
S775: "Your breath throws the flame crackling to one side. A gleam circles the
room, sliding along the walls."
S776: "With the sheets crumpled and wallowed, and the blankets and pillows in
disarray, the bed is like a bulging vessel about to sail out into the starless
night of some unknown realm. A sconce protrudes from the wall.
"
S777: "With the blankets and pillows in disarray, the bed is like a bulging
vessel about to sail out into the starless night of some unknown realm. A
sconce protrudes from the wall.
"
S778: "It smells of sweat and nightmares."
S779: "You spot half a platoon of dust-mice and several officerless lead
soldiers, which you are in too much of a hurry to retrieve. "
S780: "

A troubling shape alerts you. The boogie man? You lie down on your stomach and
shove your head still deeper under the bed. Beyond scurrying dust-mice and
scattered ranks of lead soldiers lies a monstrous amputee, a shapeless stuffed
animal without arms or legs.

"
S781: "- Polonius, thou drool-stained, tattered, one-eyed fool, farewell! I
took thee for thy better. -"
S782: " one by one, crawl under the bed, turn the pillows and mattress over.
Still, you find nothing."
S783: "taste like hair, sweat, and skin."
S784: "You sit on the bed with your knees pulled up to your chest and dig your
chin inside them, like a turtle drawing into its shell. Shortly you stand up.
Time is scarce."
S785: "- I need rest, to cool my mind, to calm down. -

"
S786: "Assailed by sudden fatigue, and with scarcely a turn into your pillow,
you drift off into slumber.

"
S787: "
You awake trembling. A minute passes, then you sit up and swing out of bed."
S788: "the"
S789: "Crumpled and damp with perspiration.
"
S790: "knotted sheets tied around your waist; tucked inside them are"
S791: "knotted sheets tied around your waist; tucked inside them is"
S792: "knotted sheets tied around your waist"
S793: "By a series of knotting and measuring actions you construct a rope of
sheets which you tie in thick coils around your waist.
"
S794: "You put all your possessions (except the yarmulke, of course) on the
table, unknot the sheets and put them back on the bed.
"
S795: "You unknot the sheets and put them back on the bed.
"
S796: "There's nowhere to put them here.
"
S797: "knotted sheets tied around your waist"
S798: "Your ruffling hand stirs up a faint scent of sweat."
S799: "You feel the knots binding the sheets together. There is no sign of
weakness."
S800: "They smell of sweat and nightmares."
S801: "They taste like hair, sweat, and skin."
S802: "They are already knotted together."
S803: "Even if the bed could support your weight, the sheets aren't long enough
to reach all the way.
"
S804: "The table could never support your weight.
"
S805: "This is no time to abandon ship. You must find the book."
S806: "The pillows and blankets are damp and drenched with the scent of cold
sweat.
"
S807: "They smell of sweat and nightmares."
S808: "They would be far too cumbersome to carry around."
S809: "Your ruffling hand stirs up a faint scent of sweat."
S810: "Some crouch and tremble in dark corners, others run across the walls and
the ceiling with an eerie speed. You see them only in the corner of your eye;
as soon as you turn your head they are gone, panting for breath in some murky
nook.
"
S811: "Walls, doors and furniture slowly surface from the unity of darkness.
Your bedroom is to the east and the study to the west. Northeast lies your
mother's bedroom and northwest the guest rooms. The landing extends north,
where it dissolves into darkness before giving on the staircase. A two-legged
table stands leaning against a wall.

Your side-curls sway, brushed by some waft of air that moves uninvited through
the draughty house.
"
S812: "Darkness subsides to a kind of generalised lavender light (the light
owls kill by) that picks out the contours of a table leaning against a wall and
the planes of doors leading to your bedroom (east), your father's study (west),
your mother's bedroom (northeast), and the guest rooms (northwest). To the
north, an unseen presence, is the staircase.
"
S813: "Doors line the walls on both sides; your bedroom is to the east and the
study to the west. To the northeast lies your mother's bedroom and northwest
the guest rooms. To the north, where dusk dissolves into darkness, stands what
appears to be a cabinet of some sort. Further north, an unseen presence, is the
staircase. Leaning against a wall is a two-legged table.
"
S814: "Wallpapers leap to life in the trembling glow of the lamp. Doors line
the walls on both sides; your bedroom is to the east and the study to the west.
To the northeast lies your mother's bedroom and northwest the guest rooms. To
the north, now plainly visible, lies the stair-case. Leaning against a wall
stands a two-legged table. At the northern end of the landing stands a tall
cabinet.
"
S815: "No lights brighten the staircase."
S816: "To the northeast is your mother's bedroom."
S817: "To the northwest are the guest rooms."
S818: "You leave the lamp behind. Your bedroom is already well-lit.
"
S819: "Your father would have never allowed you to enter his study with a
burning kerosene lamp. He was afraid that the fumes would damage his books."
S820: "Glass jingles in the sheets, words jangle in your head.
"
S821: "The draught would extinguish a naked flame."
S822: "
Dirt and crumbling flecks of plaster accumulate on your bare soles as you
descend the stairs. Along the walls of empty rooms and halls shapes and colours
leap forward into the light of the lamp.
"
S823: "You've already searched your mother's bedroom."
S824: "You quietly slip into your mother's bedroom. The bed is empty and still
warm. You search the wardrobes and the chest of drawers and look under the bed,
you even turn the mattresses over. "
S825: "you think to yourself as you re-enter the landing.
"
S826: "You've already searched the guest rooms."
S827: "You search the guest rooms thoroughly, going through every bookcase,
drawer and piece of furniture. You search the curiosa cabinets in the
music-room, also without success. A sudden fear strikes you as you re-enter the
landing: it's too late, it's already been taken."
S828: ""
S829: "A peek through the door reveals nothing new. Your bedroom looks now as
it looked when you left it."
S830: ""
S831: "To the west is your father's study."
S832: ""
S833: "the"
S834: "the"
S835: "Walls, doors and furniture surface from the unity of darkness."
S836: "Wallpapers leap to life in the trembling glow of the lamp."
S837: "[That is not something you need to interact with.]"
S838: "A waft of air moves uninvited through the draughty house."
S839: "With one hand touching the wall and the other sweeping the air like a
blind man's stick you walk in small steps hoping to stumble on the bannister.
The warm and faintly abrasive texture of the wallpaper gives now and then way
to the smooth planes of doors and the cool surfaces of mirrors. Darkness and
fear elongate the hallway to torturous lengths.

Three or four steps and you should reach the bannister. On your second step,
there is nothing but air beneath your foot. Your brain jolts into action and
reaches a peak of activity as you soar in mid-air, processing a dozen scenarios
ranging from broken legs to a crushed skull.

"
S840: "A splinter of glass wounds you in the side. You bleed to death before
help arrives.
"
S841: "Your tumbling body receives numerous painful blows from balusters, newel
posts and finally the floor of the landing partway down the stairs. Grunts and
groans arise from below; the noise has awoken the servants. You climb back up.
"
S842: "The stair-case leads down into darkness.
"
S843: "The scattered shards of the lamp-chimney remind you of your own life."
S844: " The spare chimney should be around here somewhere."
S845: "In demonstration of manliness, you chew the glass as if the shards were
biscuits. Being your own audience you receive no applause, no oohs, no aahs.
Will your shit at least sparkle? No, the rites of juvenile manhood are their
own reward."
S846: "Of all things broken and lost, glass troubles you least."
S847: "It's too dark to see any details."
S848: "The carvings give the table an appearance of having been assembled of
parts, the seams not quite smooth.
"
S849: "A tabletop on two legs leans against the wall. There are carvings, but
it's too dark to see any details."
S850: "Legs decorated with eagles' talons are paralysed in the motion of taking
flight. With the beak and eyes wide open, the eagle's head that adorns the
tabletop is frozen in predatory rage. Condemned by the sadistic whim of a
carpenter, this sad hybrid of bird and furniture is forever confined in a
convulsion of fury for which there is no release.
"
S851: "No drawers or hinged doors, just a tabletop on two legs."
S852: "You find shards of broken glass under the table."
S853: "Lustrous and alive, like a superior kind of flesh."
S854: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
Moths circle the naked flame."
S855: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
The lamp is unlit."
S856: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
Mounted on the lamp is a chimney casting a hazy glow."
S857: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
Mounted on the lamp is a funnel casting a hazy glow."
S858: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
Mounted on the unlit lamp is a chimney."
S859: "Its head is a flattened bowl of glass and its body a single brass stem.
Mounted on the unlit lamp is a funnel."
S860: "a kerosene lamp being held in a clammy grip"
S861: "For no obvious reason you blow on the unlit lamp."
S862: "No, the matches are too preciously few."
S863: "You've already decided against it."
S864: " after all take it to your bedroom and try to light it off the lamp
there. But they are rather delicate contraptions, these old-fashioned kerosene
lamps, and the sconce is high up. If you break it and spill kerosene all over
the bed, or even worse, start a fire, mother would... The casual mention of her
startles you. No, anything but that.
"
S865: "The draught would extinguish a naked flame."
S866: "You are running out of matches and the draft has breath enough to
extinguish another flame.
"
S867: "The flame flickers, and then a sudden draught makes it lean far from the
wick, pulsate, puff out. All that is left are thin, smoky wisps, vague memories
of its burning.
"
S868: "You light the lamp, turning it as low as possible so as not to consume
more fuel than absolutely necessary.
"
S869: "Shaped like a flattened bowl and ready to be mounted by a lamp-chimney,
but currently empty.
"
S870: "Shaped like a flattened bowl and mounted by a lamp-chimney.
"
S871: "Shaped like a flattened bowl and mounted by a glass funnel.
"
S872: "You trace the wavy irregularities of the hand-blown glass."
S873: "It's too dark to see any details."
S874: "The base depicts a man chained to a rock.
"
S875: "Like sucking on an old copper coin."
S876: "It's too dark to see any details."
S877: "A man wounded in the side hangs from a rock with his arms extended above
his head. His tormented gaze promises both agonizing death and endless life.
The details emerge more and more clearly, more and more horribly, extremities
creeping out one by one, clearly defined and real. You see his fingernails, his
pathetically upturned eyes, the liver protruding from an open wound and the
rivulets of blood; everything is now out in the open.
"
S878: "His bones and muscles feel tepid and slender."
S879: "The smell of old leather and yellowing pages rushes to your nostrils.
Dust floats inside spears of moonlight that shoot through a tall window and
spill on an elaborately carved desk. A smooth plane on the southern wall holds
a shadowy figure that stares intently at you. It takes you a second to realise
it's you, reflected in a mirror. The northern wall is entirely lined with
books, save over the fireplace.

A pendulum sways back and forth, paying absolutely no attention to you.

You spin around, looking for the source of the sound. "
S880: "Shafts of moonlight beam through a tall window and spill on an
elaborately carved desk that occupies the centre of this big, book-lined room.
"
S881: "A square mirror attached to the southern wall takes a ferocious bite out
of your otherwise harmonious field of vision. On the opposite wall, facing the
mirror, is a fireplace. "
S882: "A doorway in the southern wall leads into "
S883: ". On the opposite wall, facing the doorway, is a fireplace. "
S884: "Standing in a corner is a tall grandfather clock.
"
S885: "Flames flicker inside a fireplace, casting the distorted shapes of a
desk and armchair over shelves crammed with books. "
S886: "A square mirror attached to the southern wall takes a ferocious bite out
of your otherwise harmonious field of vision. "
S887: "A doorway in the southern wall leads into "
S888: "In a corner, illuminated by the moonlight sifting through the window,
stands a grandfather clock.
"
S889: "
Flashes of artillery fire redden the sky. The thunder is far off, a gentle
rolling, like drums in the distance."
S890: "
A cloud passes over the moon, momentarily robbing the room of colour."
S891: "
Your breath swings back and forth with the heavy movement of the clock's
pendulum."
S892: "
- Tick tack tick tack - the stately motion of the pendulum."
S893: "
The moon casts a frosty glow over the book-shelves."
S894: "
The window panes rattle inside their frames."
S895: "The notes crackle and shiver in the speed of your walk. You tuck them
deeper inside the sheets.
"
S896: "the"
S897: "You listen by the door, but hear nothing except the draught whistling
through the landing."
S898: "Dust particles float in and out of the streams of light, drifting
aimlessly, gently swirling around each other."
S899: "You slowly twirl your hands in the dust-spangled air."
S900: "the"
S901: "A tall window with mullions as thin as chalk-lines, through whose panes
you see the moon and the stars. "
S902: "A chill breeze envelops your face as you lean out and peer on the street
below. "
S903: "Piping runs across the ceiling above the window. "
S904: "
A small bird flies in through the open window and perches on the desk. It gives
you a beady eye, hops around disoriented for a while, then disappears back into
the night."
S905: "
- Thwap! - Wood smacks wood. - Clang! - Metal strikes metal. You look out of
the window, but see no movement."
S906: "
A sudden gust of wind makes the trees outside sway and whisper."
S907: "
A few faint bars of music float in through the open window."
S908: "
High heels tap pouncingly down a flagstone path. Why do women's footsteps
always sound more aggressive than men's?"
S909: "
Through the open window a breeze carries the smell of distant fires."
S910: "You rub a hole in the befogged window pane."
S911: "You poke your head through the window."
S912: "You throw the window open and peer on the street below."
S913: " It's too high to jump or drop safely."
S914: "Opening the window is a mere formality.

"
S915: "The wind smells of night flowers and earth."
S916: "A chill breeze envelops your face."
S917: "The panes rattle as you close the window."
S918: "Forming a pattern of interlocking circles and squares, the panes spray a
kaleidoscope of planes and angles on the desk.
"
S919: "Dark blue and red, almost black now that most of the light is gone.
"
S920: "Resting your forehead on the glass, you watch the black extensiveness
outside press tightly against the panes. Your breath makes a circle of vapour
which slowly fades away."
S921: "You lick the glass in bold, slashing strokes."
S922: "The moon appears the same size as a button held close to the eye"
S923: "You have more important things to do."
S924: "You hoist yourself up by your side-curls and reach the moon. For many
days you wander about. Not a soul is to be seen anywhere and no matter how hard
you look for a beaten track, there is none. One day, however, rambling
aimlessly along, you notice what seem to be human footprints. Overjoyed, you
walk on for several more days until you reach a city. Yet, at its gate are
guards who refuse to admit you without papers, and since you have none, you are
seized and deported back to earth."
S925: "The chimneys look like cat burglars frozen in the act of carefully
tip-toeing the roofs.
"
S926: "The piping runs from north to south.
"
S927: "Copper plumbing connects the north and south walls. The pipes vibrate
and murmur.
"
S928: "Resting on a thin rug, its intricate carvings and ornate drawers glisten
like the scaling of a snake. "
S929: "Two footprints are delicately superimposed on the shiny surface. "
S930: "Behind the desk stands an armchair.
"
S931: "Behind the desk stands an armchair."
S932: "You stroke its dark shining top, as if it were a cat."
S933: "You are not too keen to repeat the dangerous feat.
"
S934: "You've already found the gloves.
"
S935: "The desk creakes with the strain.

An unusual glint of metal catches your attention, urging your eyes to focus on
the grandfather clock. Your gaze firmly fixed on the upper part of the clock,
you lose perspective and start to wobble out of control. Your backside lurches,
your arms swim for balance. Just before falling, you regain balance and drop
gracelessly on the rug.
"
S936: "You wouldn't want to disturb anything on the desk."
S937: "The armchair looks more comfortable."
S938: "The rug feels worn under your knees as you take a look under the desk.
There is nothing there. The blush of pink from the pressure of kneeling slowly
fades from your knees.
"
S939: "What a weight to wrestle with! Even Samson wouldn't budge it."
S940: "Rivers of frozen wax cover the owl and a candle stump sticks up from its
head, "
S941: "Rivers of molten wax cover the owl and a burning candle sticks up from
its head, "
S942: "The owl is fixed to the desk, but you notice its head might move."
S943: "Arms of frozen wax cover the owl from head to claw."
S944: "Rivers of molten wax cover the owl from head to claw."
S945: "The wax clings tenaciously to every curve, its sinewy arms holding the
owl in a cold embrace."
S946: "Melting the wax will only bury the wick deeper.
"
S947: "
An idea so simple and transparent that it seems almost trivial strikes you with
the force of a lightning bolt. "
S948: " - Maybe I should lift the wick first? -
"
S949: "A seam runs under the owl's head."
S950: "The head turns... no more than a few degrees. You try peeling the wax,
but the frozen arms prove tenacious.
"
S951: "With a hydraulic hiss the lift ascends the shaft disappearing out of
sight.
"
S952: "The head turns 180 degrees. You hear a brief hydraulic hiss from
somewhere behind the mirror, but nothing else happens."
S953: "The head turns 180 degrees. Nothing happens."
S954: "The head turns 180 degrees. Nothing happens."
S955: "The head turns 180 degrees. You hear a brief hydraulic hiss from
somewhere behind the mirror, but nothing else happens."
S956: "This time you take no chances, keeping a safe distance as the lift
descends and stops.
"
S957: "You cautiously peek down the shaft, anticipating a lift of some sort to
ascend it. A hydraulic hiss from above alerts you. The lift misses your head by
a hand's-width.
"
S958: "Molten wax runs down the sides of the owl, following the frozen rivers
of past burnings."
S959: "It burns with a feeble flame, nothing more than a swath of giddy light.
"
S960: "
The whole house, room beyond room surrounding with darkness the tiny island of
light around the candle, fills with menace.
"
S961: "The candle stump has become a part of the owl."
S962: "You try teasing the wick up, but the wax is hard and unyielding, and
your fingers are soft and plump."
S963: "It feels like flesh, although it's tough and dry."
S964: "Your breath throws the flame crackling to one side. A gleam circles the
room, sliding along the walls."
S965: "In a gesture of unease - or is it bad conscience? - you decide not to
look at the photograph.
"
S966: "An attractive brunette in her thirties smiles enigmatically at you. Your
mother's vicarious presence makes you feel uneasy. There is something
unsettling about her eyes, the way she watches your watching: bland, certain
and inscrutable. You turn the photograph facedown.
"
S967: "You watch the photograph crinkle into ash, dying out against your skin.
"
S968: "In a gesture of unease, you decide to leave the photograph be."
S969: "A small silver hand with an extended index finger.
"
S970: "  a yadu with a long and narrow index finger"
S971: "It slides fluidly into the fawn's eye. "
S972: "Cool and flavourless, like icicles in December."
S973: "Careful not to cut yourself, you tuck the yadu inside the sheets."
S974: "Disproportionately long and scrawny with a sharp tip.
"
S975: "
To stick it into a bulging eye, that would be a wicked thrill, a tunnel into
another world.
"
S976: "A single drop of blood wells up on the tip of your thumb. The wound
finds its way to your mouth and your eyes darken as you suck from its red ink."
S977: "Maybe it was the sharp pain or the warm sweet taste of blood. For a
moment you feel the urge to cut yourself again."
S978: "A huntress stands on a chariot. Her bow drawn to the ear, she speeds in
pursuit of a flock of deer. One fawn appears strangely unconcerned by the
approaching danger.
"
S979: "Almost unconsciously, you let your fingertips explore the carvings that
decorate the desk. They exude power and precision."
S980: "The fawn looks directly at you, with his great bulging eye, as
vulnerable as a bubble of jelly a stray needle might prick. Looking closer you
notice that the eye has no pupil, only a narrow deep hole.
"
S981: "It won't fit. The hole is too narrow."
S982: "You feel a narrow hole where the pupil should have been."
S983: "Your fingers are far too chubby to fit into such a narrow hole."
S984: "It's not fearful, or even alert; it's a neutral gazing orb with a narrow
hole instead of a pupil.
"
S985: "It won't fit. The hole is too narrow."
S986: "You feel a narrow hole where the pupil should have been."
S987: "Your fingers are far too chubby to fit into such a narrow hole."
S988: "The flock has detected the danger and is taking flight. They leap with
their front and hind legs almost in a straight line. Only a fawn remains
standing, seemingly unconcerned by the approaching threat.
"
S989: "The face of the lion that draws the chariot is seized in a snarl that
turns its eyes into twinkling slits.
"
S990: "It's the snarl of dramatic irony, of knowing more than the onlooker.
"
S991: "Being an ancient huntress you would expect her to wear a sensible tunic,
perhaps with leggings, probably of a heavy green cloth. But none of that shows
on the carving. Whatever she's wearing, it's tight, giving away her girlish
figure.
"
S992: "A piece of sinewy yew and a string: simple and lethal.
"
S993: "Searching each drawer in turn, you sift through bottles of marking ink,
rubber stamps, a few numbers of Yiddish comic publications, old copies of
obscure newspapers, badly printed, with titles hinting at impropriety. The
bottom drawer is locked."
S994: "Looking closer at the bottom drawer you notice that it has no visible
lock.
"
S995: "That would never fit inside the drawer."
S996: "It is an offence against Hashem to go bareheaded."
S997: "Like a fumbling teen making out with a hard-to-please girl you search
the drawer for the keyhole, its secret spot of release. The drawer remains
unresponsive to your ungainly caresses."
S998: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S999: "Words scribbled in ink. The light here is too dim to read by."
S1000: "Unfinished sentences in Holy Tongue scribbled in an almost
unintelligible hand. With some effort, you manage to decipher a few lines.

"
S1001: ""I wish no longer to associate myself with" - "They come and go as they
wish [?] the mirror" - "I alone have fathomed [?] grand design [?] worthy to
enjoy the fruits" - "matter is but clay in His" - "Their farcical proceedings
will turn His wrath on them" - "touch untouchable and turn owl's head ThReAyHe"
- "Jacek, that [?] toad"

"
S1002: "Here, the inky threads which form the words devolve into an illegible
scrawl.

"
S1003: "Drawn in pen on the back of one sheet is a young, smartly dressed woman
walking a dog. Her posture exudes dominance. The dog looks up submissively at
his mistress. Stooping men, her sickly devotees, admire her at a distance
skulking in the background. Her pretty East European face is bracketed by long
dangling earrings. The dog has a human face, resembling that of your father."
S1004: "  some notes"
S1005: "You watch with sadness as the words your father spilled on the paper
slowly vanish into a smoky hiss.
"
S1006: "A dank smell reminiscent of old cellars."
S1007: "They have that wrinkled quality of paper that has been damp and though
dry will never lie flat again."
S1008: "The dog seems a narrower, harder version of your father, with the same
curved, fleshy nose and full-lipped mouth, only with four legs, and a tail.
Your father transposed into another key, and yet the melody recognisable.
"
S1009: "A small cardboard box with the image of a burning match on its cover."
S1010: "  a matchbox"
S1011: "A peek inside reveals the matchbox to be down to its last few matches.
"
S1012: "The sides of the matchbox are coarse and gritty, like sandpaper."
S1013: "The orange flame of a match flares violently into life. You peer into
the open space to the south noticing wet stone before the match stings your
fingers, burning down to a wriggling red spot in the blackness."
S1014: "Bal Tashchit forbids wastefulness of anything that has some use, even a
single match."
S1015: "Stuffing shows through holes in the worn leather. Despite the tattered
state, there is a certain grandeur in the armchair's ruin, an air of regality
and aloofness. Reclining in it is the privilege of the chosen few, moving it
would be tantamount to an insult.
"
S1016: "[When moving things use the syntax MOVE <OBJECT> TO <OBJECT>]"
S1017: "Standing on your toes, you reach for the tool box that you discover
atop the grandfather clock. A collection of rusty coins and nails, corroded
belt buckles, pieces of knives, shards and bits of broken bottles meets your
eyes. Disappointed, you climb down, pull the armchair back to where it stood
and "
S1018: "tuck the pair of workman's gloves that you found next to the tool box
inside the sheets.
"
S1019: "put the workman's gloves that you found next to the tool box on the
desk.
"
S1020: "There's nothing there but cobwebs and old junk."
S1021: "Standing on your toes, you reach for the piping. "
S1022: "It's cold. You trace it with your eyes. It seems to connect the
fireplace with the southern wall."
S1023: "It's hot. You trace it with your eyes. It seems to connect the
fireplace with the southern wall."
S1024: " You climb down and move the armchair back to where it stood."
S1025: "There's little point in doing that."
S1026: "Looking in the mirror you stand on the armchair and place your hand on
the mural where the hovering figure should have been. A sudden drop in pressure
plays unpleasant tricks on your ears. The mirror has disappeared, turning the
frame into a doorway giving on to "
S1027: "a dark shaft.

You push the armchair back to where it stood.
"
S1028: "a narrow lift carriage.

You push the armchair back to where it stood.
"
S1029: "There's nothing on top of the book-shelves but busts and dust."
S1030: "You push Dante Alighieri and Jan Kochanowski unceremoniously aside,
only to reveal a cobwebby place behind the busts, never touched by a broom. You
climb down from the armchair and push it back to where it stood."
S1031: "The top of the frame hasn't been dusted for quite some time. Satisfied
with the results of your investigations, you push the armchair back to where it
stood."
S1032: "There is no need to rearrange the furniture.
"
S1033: "Too heavy and cumbersome to carry around."
S1034: "You notice indentations in the rug, right next to where the grandfather
clock stands."
S1035: "You press your hand into the leather of the armchair, making a vague
imprint. It feels soft and supple, almost like skin. As you lift your hand, the
leather slowly smoothes itself, regaining its cool form, forgetting you.
"
S1036: "The leather is smooth on the tongue."
S1037: "The leather smells of cigarettes and rum, with a faint little whiff of
expensive perfume."
S1038: "You have stretched leisure beyond where it's effortless. Your father is
waiting. Find the book."
S1039: "Given inspiration has turned a deaf ear to you for the moment, you
settle into the old piece, making the leather creak and rustle. Your furrowed
brow and steepled fingers reflect the heated debate in your mind. Destroying
the roots of the same-self tree of which you are a branch is madness, be it in
the name of the righteous vengeance that is burning in your belly, or for any
other reason. "
S1040: "- Anyway, the book is top priority now. -"
S1041: " you conclude, relieved to postpone the matter of having to deal with
your mother. "
S1042: " a thought strikes you as you heave yourself out of the armchair.
"
S1043: "You heave yourself out of the armchair. Time is vital.
"
S1044: "
Your eyes dart from the fireplace to the mirror and back again."
S1045: "The vibrant colours of its weave have long ago disappeared, but the
pattern is still discernible. Lost in a tangle of leaves and vines, a serpent
is swallowing its tail. On closer examination you notice indentations, next to
where the grandfather clock stands.
"
S1046: "You lift one edge of the rug by its fringes exposing a maple parquet
whose beauty has been long obscured.
"
S1047: "You press down your toes, the arch, the heel, so that each part of your
foot can feel the fabric."
S1048: "You'd have to move the desk first, and that would be a feat of
Samsonian proportions.
"
S1049: "You lean your back against the desk and clasping your knees with your
arms look at the empty fireplace."
S1050: "You lean your back against the desk and clasping your knees with your
arms look at the blazing fireplace."
S1051: " Shortly you stand up. Time is scarce."
S1052: "Brown scales cover its body and a stitch of white satin gives the
reptilian eye a wicked gleam.
"
S1053: "Deep indentations in the carpet reveal where the armchair once stood,
before it was moved."
S1054: "Whoever moved the armchair tried to move it back exactly where it
stood, but failed to notice the depression marks."
S1055: "The mirror is fixed firmly to the wall in a painted wooden frame. The
frame is cracked and flaking away years of paint, revealing at least three
older colours under the current powder blue. The mirror itself looks new, or at
least unblemished.
"
S1056: "
There is a circle of moisture on the mirror.
"
S1057: "
There is a circle of moisture on the mirror bearing the message ""
S1058: "Trapped in the realm of perpetual left-handedness, your double looks
back at you with an expression of sadness on his somewhat pudgy face. Reflected
in the mirror you see a mural and a "
S1059: "Pressing your ear against the cold surface you strain your hearing,
listening. "
S1060: "The voices are very dim, barely audible."
S1061: "The crystal clink of glass touching glass. A female voice:

"
S1062: "- Octo portae antecedunt Serpentum qui verbum custodit. -

"
S1063: "She pauses. The faint sound of metal striking stone. You count six
blows. At least a dozen voices chant in unison:

"
S1064: "- Tibi damus fidelitatem, Domine. Tibi dedemus... -

"
S1065: "- Serpens bestia est quae nunquam dormit, bestia cujos oculi videntur
in Speculo Scientae. Ne timeamus nec lacqeum, nec gladium, nec venenum. -

"
S1066: "Five blows. The choir takes its turn, but you can't make out the words.
A female voice chants:

"
S1067: "- Incanti eamus inter lepra, et pestilentia contaminatos... -

"
S1068: "Something interrupts her. Whispers, then silence."
S1069: "You press your ear against the cold surface. Nothing can be heard from
beyond the mirror."
S1070: "The circle of moisture widens slightly."
S1071: "Your breath forms a circle of moisture on the mirror."
S1072: "The glass of the mirror is cool under your fingers as you trace the
edge of the frame. There appears to be no gap between the frame and the wall,
nor can you see how it is attached. Puzzled you stare into your reflection, but
your double seems just as perplexed as you are."
S1073: "You shake your fist at the mirror. Your double returns the gesture."
S1074: "
At first hallucinatorily faint, impossible to pinpoint, it begins.

You stand in silence, catching every whiff of sound. It's creeping up from
behind the mirror, from the southern wall, the faint drone of chanting.
"
S1075: "the"
S1076: "A circular brand is visible on his forehead."
S1077: "Forced to repeat your slightest gesture, your double scrutinises you
with an air of sadness and apprehension. Looking closer you notice a circular
brand on his forehead."
S1078: "

Instinctively you touch your face; it's intact. He notices that you have seen
the scar, and, embarrassed, he smiles uneasily and drops his hand with a
hesitant motion. A single tear-trail appears on his cheek."
S1079: "You form your hand into a five-clawed hook. Your double returns the
gesture. As your fingers touch, five interlocking sets of rings expand on the
surface of the mirror."
S1080: "In your mind you hear your voice finish the question, but the words
never leave your lips."
S1081: "

For a moment the figure in the mirror doesn't seem like a reflection. He moves
at different times and has a trapped air about him. Two sets of eyes lock.

Slowly, your poisoned bodies intertwine and, vein by vein and sinew by sinew,
your image fades in with his.
"
S1082: "A brief hint of pain crosses your double's face, before fading away. A
rush of stale air envelops you. The mirror has disappeared, turning the frame
into a doorway giving on to "
S1083: "Your tongue is drawn into a shapeless wet space."
S1084: "You move closer to the mirror. The Holy Letters ThReAyHe are visible on
the brand.
"
S1085: "You stare into the dead ashes in the fireplace.
"
S1086: "You kneel and touch the ashes. They are still warm."
S1087: "You take a handful of ashes and let it sip through your fingers."
S1088: "A fireplace pillared like the facade of a temple supports a mantel
above which a mural displays the Sacrifice of Isaac. Next to the hearth, full
of cold ashes and sending out a draught on your ankles, is a stack of apple
wood"
S1089: "Wood blazes green and orange, like a burning bush framed by carved
stone. A mural above the mantel displays, as though a window giving on a
pastoral scene, the Sacrifice of Isaac. There is a stack of apple wood"
S1090: "
A piece of wood in the fireplace crackles loudly."
S1091: "
A drift of fragrance steals around you, unmistakable in its sweetness: burning
apple wood."
S1092: "
Flames reflect in the carved surfaces of the desk."
S1093: "
You think you hear whimpering from the hearth, but decide it's just the fire
digesting a tiny vein of sap."
S1094: "You are greeted by a gust of chill wind coming down the chimney. There
is a small "
S1095: "sign attached to the inside of the fireplace."
S1096: "The fireplace is blazing like a burning bush."
S1097: "In the soot and dirt? How beastly!"
S1098: "You contemplate the banality of senseless destruction."
S1099: "The worn brick of the hearth is smooth and cold against your skin."
S1100: "Warmth gushes on your legs and face as you inch closer to the fire.
"
S1101: "
You wonder if "touch untouchable" in the notes could have meant the fire. No,
that would have been too simple. You turn your head and look at the mirror.
"
S1102: "The fireplace smells of recent use."
S1103: "Burning apple wood has a sweet nauseating smell, like that of a funeral
parlour filled with flowers."
S1104: "The fire crackles and hisses as sap explodes."
S1105: "The fireplace screens are already open."
S1106: "A single spark might set fire to the rug."
S1107: "As long as the fireplace is unlit, the screens may just as well stay
open."
S1108: "The fireplace screens are already closed."
S1109: "Soot and ashes blow in your face."
S1110: "The fire blazes up sending smoke into your eyes."
S1111: "A pair of slender, narrowly-fluted columns support a mantel giving the
fireplace the semblance of a pagan temple.
"
S1112: "You crawl inside the fireplace and wipe the soot off the sign. "
S1113: "It reads:

       MEDIUM SIZE BOILER
          KLEIST & SON
 STEAM POWERED HYDRAULIC LIFTS
"
S1114: "
Standing, you brush the smudges from your knees.
"
S1115: "You can't see it through the flames."
S1116: "It's securely screwed to the inside of the hearth."
S1117: "You trace the gothic letters on the sign."
S1118: "At the tip of the bronze-handled poker is a flat circle.
"
S1119: "  a fireplace poker dangling from your side"
S1120: "You tuck the poker inside the sheets."
S1121: "The handle of the poker, bronze worked to imitate wound cord, nearly
falls from your hand, so unexpectedly heavy is the flat circle that adorns its
tip."
S1122: "You put the poker next to the fireplace.
"
S1123: "You stand with one foot pointed straight out, the other sideways. You
hold the arm grasping the poker loosely in front of you, and the other arm
behind you at shoulder height, with the elbow out like a chicken wing.

"
S1124: "You lunge forward thrusting your sword through the air.

"
S1125: "Balancing the poker in your hand, you feel the weight of the circle."
S1126: "There's something engraved on the flat circle, but it's hard to tell
exactly what."
S1127: " There's a gluey residue on the surface of the circle."
S1128: "The texture of the metal feels strange, cold and hard, but also warm in
a way, as if it had a life of its own."
S1129: "A boy is smashed against a rock, his face and body screaming in fear. A
man, much older than he, is struggling to hold him down, with the veins bulging
in the boy's arms. The man wields a knife while a ram waits in the background.
"
S1130: "
While the mural depicts three figures, its reflection in the mirror shows a
fourth hovering above the sacrificial grove.
"
S1131: "You trace the contours of his bulging veins."
S1132: "Too far to reach with your tongue, but very much within the range of
your hand."
S1133: "Isaac's mouth bursts open with a scream exposing a tongue arched in
agony.
"
S1134: "You pull Isaac's tongue like a magician pulling a ball of string from a
hat. Soon, your imaginings dissipate into reality."
S1135: "You pull Isaac's tongue like a magician pulling a ball of string from a
hat. A drop in pressure plays unpleasant tricks on your ears. The mirror has
disappeared, turning the frame into a doorway giving on to "
S1136: "Light directs you to scan the scene from left to right as it picks out
the old man's shoulder and left hand, the right shoulder and terrified face of
Isaac and finally the docile ram.
"
S1137: "The knife is silhouetted against the light on Isaac's arm. The Holy
Letters ThReAyHe are inscribed on the blade.
"
S1138: "You take a careful look at it in the mirror. A moth-like creature
hovers high above the sacrificial grove, out of reach, untouchable.
"
S1139: "You look at the section of the mural where the hovering figure should
have been had the reflection been an accurate one. It's too high to reach.
"
S1140: "The dismembered corpse of a tree lies neatly piled by the fireplace.
"
S1141: "Wishes alone don't light candles.
"
S1142: "You'll have to find gloves, or something."
S1143: "you exclaim in Polish, a language you use mainly to give your
invectives an air of nobility. The wood is covered with sap, and you hate
having sticky fingers.
"
S1144: "You put the gloves on and toss some wood into the hearth. The sharp
taste of kerosene spreads in your mouth as you pull the gloves off with your
teeth. With mittenlike clumsiness your pudgy fingers grope for a match. You
frown as the sulphur tip strikes against the abrasive side of the matchbox, and
refuses to ignite. It flares on the third scratch.

As you watch the fire grow and slowly chew the wood, the plumbing begins to
vibrate and murmur.
"
S1145: "A sticky substance clings to your fingertips. The tree is still sending
sap to phantom twigs. Unwillingly, your mind projects the image of a heart
beating inside a dismembered corpse."
S1146: "A sickening sweetness assaults your nostrils."
S1147: "The pendulum swings back and forth, its precision maintained by small
adjustments to the three weights nearby.
"
S1148: "You'd have to open the clock first."
S1149: "A pendulum swings back and forth, paying absolutely no attention to
you."
S1150: "It stands in a corner ticking, sighing and muttering, full of memories
and rusted springs. Illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window,
you see a pendulum swaying back and forth. You can't see the top of the
grandfather clock from here, but it's no doubt covered with many years' worth
of dust."
S1151: " With its stomach open and its innards exposed, the ticking is much
louder now."
S1152: "Everything inside the grandfather clock is securely fixed."
S1153: "And smash the clock to pieces, possibly killing yourself?"
S1154: "You nearly topple the clock in the effort."
S1155: "The dust on top of the clock is out of reach."
S1156: "You contemplate the banality of violence.
"
S1157: "This is scarcely the time for hide-and-seek."
S1158: "It is an offence against Hashem to go bareheaded."
S1159: "You'd be better off destroying them."
S1160: "You manage to get your fingers on the edge of the grandfather clock,
where it meets the wall. Tugging for all you are worth, you succeed budging it
a little."
S1161: " You distinctly hear something rattle on the top of the clock.
"
S1162: " You are rewarded by a halo of dust.
"
S1163: "The gap under the clock is narrow and dark."
S1164: "You feel the tiny thumps of ticking from inside."
S1165: "The dust tastes dead on your tongue."
S1166: "The wood smells old and musty, almost like nutmeg."
S1167: " deep inside the clock's innards."
S1168: "The mouldy smell of decaying wood fills the air. For a while you watch
the intricate mechanism turn away the minutes. A cornucopia of springs, gears,
lead weights, wires and other mechanical devices which you are unfamiliar with,
is ticking out the old man's time."
S1169: "Taking one last look at the intricate workings of the clock, you decide
that there is nothing of value inside and close the door."
S1170: "A cornucopia of springs, gears, lead weights, wires and other
mechanical devices which you are unfamiliar with, is ticking out the old man's
time. In the tangle of wires and rusty springs you spot a small metal box.
"
S1171: "Behind the wires, the Holy Letters Gm Te Dl Za Yd Ch Va Al He Bh are
inscribed in a column of alphabetical disarray."
S1172: "The box is tarnished and grey like an old tobacco tin.
"
S1173: "Stuck by rust, or some other misfortune, the box has become a part of
the apparatus."
S1174: "Probing the small box, you feel a seam outlining a possible hatch, but
no keyhole."
S1175: "Many of the springs and gears are rusted, but the mechanism is in
working order. In places, the delicate design of the metal still shows through
the rust. In the middle of the tangle of wires and rusty springs, you spot a
small metal box."
S1176: "You touch the springs and gears cautiously, your clammy, pale fingers
feeling more than just the rusty, brittle surfaces."
S1177: "Three lead weights are suspended by wires. Behind the wires, the Holy
Letters Gm Te Dl Za Yd Ch Va Al He Bh are inscribed in a column of tiny script.
Looking closer you see notches cut into the weights. "
S1178: "You follow the wire with your fingers until you touch the lead weight.
"
S1179: "The fresh silvery colour of the notches makes them stick out from the
dull grey of the lead weights. The left weight has nine, the middle weight one,
and the right weight has three notches."
S1180: "Nine filed notches are visible on the weight. "
S1181: "You pull the wire, setting the left weight to "
S1182: "You pull the wire, setting the left weight to "
S1183: "There are only ten Holy Letters inscribed in the column and this is not
one of them."
S1184: "The left weight is already set to "
S1185: "You pull the wire, setting the left weight to "
S1186: "[You can move the weight either by pulling the wire or by using SET
<WEIGHT> TO <LETTER>.]"
S1187: "You feel notches on the left weight, nine to be precise."
S1188: "There is a filed notch visible on the weight. "
S1189: "You pull the wire, setting the middle weight to "
S1190: "You pull the wire, setting the middle weight to "
S1191: "There are only ten Holy Letters inscribed in the column and this is not
one of them."
S1192: "The middle weight is already set to "
S1193: "You pull the wire, setting the middle weight to "
S1194: "[You can move the weight either by pulling the wire or by using SET
<WEIGHT> TO <LETTER>.]"
S1195: "You feel a notch on the middle weight."
S1196: "Three filed notches are visible on the weight. "
S1197: "You pull the wire, setting the right weight to "
S1198: "You pull the wire, setting the right weight to "
S1199: "There are only ten Holy Letters inscribed in the column and this is not
one of them."
S1200: "The right weight is already set to "
S1201: "You pull the wire, setting the right weight to "
S1202: "[You can move the weight either by pulling the wire or by using SET
<WEIGHT> TO <LETTER>.]"
S1203: "You feel notches on the left weight, three to be precise."
S1204: "You lift your eyes to the wall of books: a tidal wave of rows upon rows
of volumes."
S1205: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S1206: "The light here is too dim to read by."
S1207: "Yes, but there are several to choose from."
S1208: "You quickly scan the gilded spines, all in Holy Tongue: Sepher Zohar,
Sepher Yetzirah, Sepher Raziel, Sepher Bahir... Their titles bring back
memories of sleepless nights spent at your father's side, struggling with the
ancient texts. You pan across the rows of volumes until you reach a gap where
one of the books has been removed.
"
S1209: "Having found nothing, you push the book back into place."
S1210: "The leather spines are cracked and tattered, worn by generations of
avid readers.
"
S1211: "Far too heavy and cumbersome to carry around.
"
S1212: "Your eyes roam along the spines of the books until they reach a gap
where one of them has been removed."
S1213: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S1214: "The light here is too dim to read by."
S1215: "He has formed, weighed, and composed with these twenty-two letters
every created thing, and the form of everything which shall hereafter be.

"
S1216: "Pouring over the book, you turn another page.

"
S1217: "Two Stones make two Houses. Three Stones make six Houses. Four Stones
make twenty-four Houses. Five Stones make one hundred and twenty Houses. Six
Stones make seven hundred and twenty Houses. Seven Stones make five thousand
and forty Houses. Beyond this point, think of what the mouth cannot say and the
ear cannot hear.

"
S1218: "You close the book and return it to its place on the shelf.
"
S1219: "The binding is soft and worn, and dyed a peculiar dark green. The
titling is a gilt that has all but worn away."
S1220: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S1221: "The light here is too dim to read by."
S1222: "You open the book with great care, its old pages crackling with age.

"
S1223: "He forms the light, and creates darkness.
He makes peace, and creates evil.
He, Hashem, does all these things.

"
S1224: "A neatly folded sheet of paper slips from between the pages and lands
at your feet.

"
S1225: "You bend down and tuck the Gematria Chart inside the sheets.
"
S1226: "You bend down and put the Gematria Chart on the desk.
"
S1227: "You close the book and slip it back to its place on the shelf.
"
S1228: "Ancient, bound in cracked leather too thin to be animal hide. "
S1229: "You can barely make out the title in the dim light. "
S1230: "The boards are hanging only by a thread."
S1231: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S1232: "The light here is too dim to read by."
S1233: "For the nose and the tongue and the ears we do not have a measure, only
names are revealed to us.
The name of the nose: ReGm, and the tongue: ThShMm, and the ears: MmHe, and the
black of His eyes: Mm.
The black of His eyes is 11500 parasangs across.
His tongue reaches from one end of the World to the other.

"
S1234: "Only Hashem can create living things. It is said that man can create a
Golem, by spilling his seed onto mud. But the Golem is not a living thing. It
is an abomination, a spit in the face of Hashem.

"
S1235: "You close the book and return it to its place on the shelf.
"
S1236: "The spine has ridges as of cartilage beneath its hide, which is creased
like the skin of a slaughtered animal."
S1237: "You bend forward a little, but the candle-light is too faint to read
by."
S1238: "The light here is too dim to read by."
S1239: "He is Life and Death, Peace and Strife, Wisdom and Folly, Wealth and
Poverty, Beauty and Ugliness, Dominion and Slavery.

"
S1240: "Know that everything visible and perceivable to human contemplation is
limited, and that everything that is limited is finite, and that everything
that is finite is insignificant. Conversely, He who is not limited is called
ThReAyHe and His sign is the Vigilant Owl. And if He is truly without limit,
then nothing exists outside Him. And since He is both exalted and hidden, He is
the essence of all that is concealed and revealed. But since He is without
limit, He is both the root of Good and the root of Evil.

"
S1241: "You close the book and return it to its place on the shelf.
"
S1242: "The spine is broken in places along the joint and discoloured where
your moist hands have held it over and over."
S1243: "A narrow oblong of absorbing darkness, blacker than shadow and more
dense than ivory."
S1244: "You hand sinks deep into the black oblong, meeting only feeble
resistance."
S1245: "When you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into
you."
S1246: "You feel around with the poker to see how deep the gap is. It sinks
deep into the black oblong, meeting only a feeble resistance."
S1247: "Its proper place is in the park, where your father is hopefully
waiting, not on the shelf."
S1248: "Anything thrown in there would be forever lost."
S1249: "Backlit by fire, your figure fills the dwindling space with a spidering
of crawling shadows. As the shadows regain steadiness, the walls sprawl with
the alien characters of an unknown alphabet."
S1250: "The walls are covered with the alien characters of an unknown alphabet.
To the north is the study."
S1251: "You smell blood, semen and moss clinging to wet stone. There is a
feeling of openness to the south.
"
S1252: "The walls are covered with the alien characters of an unknown alphabet.
To the south a large underground cave opens up.
"
S1253: "The lift comes to a stop and you face a blackness denser than ivory.
Fear has no taste, but sharpens your sense of smell. Sniff by sniff, darkness
crumbles into particles of olfactory detail: the hostile tang of blood and
semen, even moss clinging to wet stone gives off a clear odour.

There is a feeling of openness to the south.
"
S1254: "There is a feeling of openness to the south."
S1255: "To the south a large underground cave opens up."
S1256: "Courage is the love of death. You gather your breath and take a
decisive step into the void, expecting a precipice to open beneath you. Instead
of an abyss, there's wet stone under your feet.
"
S1257: "Courage is the love of death. You gather your breath and take a
decisive step into the void, expecting a precipice to open beneath you. Instead
of an abyss, there's wet stone under your feet.
"
S1258: "Under the vigilant gaze of the owl, you descend the shaft.
"
S1259: "There is a feeling of openness to the south."
S1260: "A large underground cave opens up to the south."
S1261: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S1262: "There is something terrible in the hight of the tiny ceiling: a square
metre of dainty metal pattern covered with cobwebs in which a few white husks
of insects are suspended.
"
S1263: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S1264: "Curious forms of half-men, half-animals throng the walls. There is a
dial, not unlike a safe's combination, beneath an owl.
"
S1265: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S1266: "
[You can now type UP and DOWN when using the lift.]"
S1267: "The numbers 0 to 9 are engraved on the dial. "
S1268: "
[You can now type UP and DOWN when using the lift.]"
S1269: "The dial feels cold in your hot, damp hand."
S1270: "Darkness there, and nothing more."
S1271: "You turn the dial full circle, re-setting it to "
S1272: "You can only set the dial to a number between 0 and 9."
S1273: "
As a diver in mid-air anticipates the underwater rush and roar, you brace
yourself as you descend into a well of darkness.
"
S1274: "
[You can now type UP and DOWN when using the lift.]
"
S1275: "With the change of a single letter, darkness is accompanied by
dankness. A cold pillow of stale air hits your face. You let out a violent
sneeze that echoes off distant walls. Your runny nose subsides enough for your
sense of smell to return, together with the smoulder of blown-out candles.
Backtracking north, you should be able to reach the lift.
"
S1276: "You hear water trickling and sense the mouldy smell of moss. Present in
the air is also the smoke from recently blown-out candles. Backtracking north,
you should be able to reach the lift.
"
S1277: "Empty noise on stone: water drips from a natural vault whose western
wall is covered with moss. "
S1278: "Empty noise on stone: water drips from a natural vault whose western
wall is covered with reliefs. "
S1279: "Big boulders balance on smaller and icicle-like formations jut out from
the ground. To the south the stone floor falls steeply and the cave dissolves
into a lake.
"
S1280: "Big boulders balance on smaller and icicle-like formations jut out from
the ground. To the south the stone floor falls steeply and the cave dissolves
into a lake. A large section of the western wall has collapsed, leaving an
entryway to a dimly lit chamber.
"
S1281: "The smoky trail pulls you in a direction where you scarcely dare step."
S1282: "Solid rock blocks your way. To the north is the lift."
S1283: "The wicks burning here and there seem to mirror one another.
"
S1284: "The flame leans to one side, its gleam sliding along the walls. Then,
it steadies itself and grows."
S1285: "Hands shaking, you fumble with the matchbox until a dancing flame
scratches into being.

Living things, spiders' legs perhaps or maybe the antennae of giant centipedes,
brush against your ankles. The smoky trail pulls you in a direction where you
scarcely dare step; the stone beneath your bare soles is slippery and uneven,
littered with wet boulders and strange objects that seem to grow from the
floor. Fumbling and crushing underneath your feet what sounds like dried
flowers but feels like the skeletons of very small creatures, you find the
first candle, and then the second...
"
S1286: "You distinctly scent the arid smoulder of blown-out candles in the dank
air."
S1287: "Something hooks around your ankle. You fall in stages, thrusting out an
arm, then rolling face down on the stone slabs that pave the floor.

"
S1288: "you exclaim in a voice from which pain and despair have squeezed all
propriety.

The violent fall had unfocused the camera of your brain. Your ears registered
the jingle-jangle, but your eyes didn't see the gleam as the orb made contact
with the stone, bounced, and took a dive into a crevice."
S1289: "Light enters the chamber not as sharp slices from above (as in the
study), but more mistily, from an unknown diffused source, rolling foglike over
the "
S1290: "stone slabs and the mud under the ledge in the rock wall.
"
S1291: "stone slabs and the huge iron flower rising from the mud.
"
S1292: "stone slabs and the morello tree rising from the mud.
"
S1293: "stone slabs and a Golem squatting in the mud.
"
S1294: "You almost stumble on a crevice in the stone floor. As you move deeper
into the chamber stone gives way to mud, which oozes between your toes and
makes sucking sounds when you lift your feet... Suddenly, you are overwhelmed
by the feeling of being watched. But how could there be anyone else here? The
crumbled wall to the east is the only entrance, and the only exit visible.
Straining your eyes you notice a ledge protruding from the rock wall to the
west.
"
S1295: "
Golem throws a giant centipede against the rock wall. The echo of his moronic
giggle bounces off the walls."
S1296: "
Golem picks up a giant centipede and offers it to you. As if fearing that you
might accept, he promptly retrieves his hand and pops the wriggling insect into
his mouth."
S1297: "
The flatulence sounds like an orchestra getting ready to take off. With an air
of superiority, Golem points at his belly, as if explaining a complex process
to an ignorant audience."
S1298: "
Golem rubs his back against the ledge."
S1299: "
Golem sniffs, turns his head in your direction and grins sheepishly."
S1300: "
Golem's head turns upward. An unseen bat is flapping its wings. A tongue
uncoils and retracts, all within a second. The flapping stops and Golem
swallows."
S1301: "
Golem takes a short nap."
S1302: "
Golem burps releasing malodorous vapours."
S1303: "Something hooks around your ankle. You fall in stages, thrusting out an
arm, then rolling face down on the stone slabs that pave the floor.

"
S1304: "you exclaim in a voice from which pain and despair have squeezed all
propriety.

The violent fall had unfocused the camera of your brain. Your ears registered
the jingle-jangle, but your eyes didn't see the gleam as the orb made contact
with the stone, bounced, and took a dive into a crevice."
S1305: "you hear Golem mumble as you leave the chamber.
"
S1306: "Golem picks you up and brings you to his mouth.

"
S1307: "- Bad Golem! Don't you dare eat daddy! -

"
S1308: "he mumbles as he lifts you up to the ledge. From the tension in his
voice you can sense that you have hurt his feelings.
"
S1309: "The rock wall under the ledge is smooth, providing no holds or
protruding surfaces on which to climb.
"
S1310: "You feel the rhythm of centipedes rippling the walls."
S1311: "Thick mud covers the ground below the ledge, plastering itself over
your feet and oozing between your toes.
"
S1312: "
There is a strange track of prints in the mud.
"
S1313: "
You observe, in addition to your own tracks, a troubling set of prints.
"
S1314: "The rotting mulch that life grows out of before joining it again."
S1315: "A blob of mud with no recognisable form other than the imprint of your
palms. A rotting mulch of previous deaths, that if squeezed hard enough makes
coal, or diamonds.

You throw the blob back into the mud.
"
S1316: "It may look like chocolate, but you can tell by the smell that it's
nasty as shit."
S1317: "Two lines of widely spaced narrow punctures run parallel with each
other. In trying to imagine the animal, you can only think of a spider; a
spider the size of a smallish elephant.
"
S1318: "You follow the prints with your eyes until they reach the rock wall
under the ledge."
S1319: "A ledge protrudes from the rock wall to the west.
"
S1320: "You test each slab of stone for a pitfall where your body could tumble
onto the bones of previous trespassers.
"
S1321: "
There is a narrow crevice between two slabs of stone.
"
S1322: "There is a narrow crevice between two slabs of stone."
S1323: "A narrow water-filled crevice in-between two slabs of stone.
"
S1324: "A narrow cunt-like crevice in-between two slabs of stone.
"
S1325: "Though the idea is distasteful, stretched prostrate and pinned flat to
the floor of the world, the stone scraping your belly, the sensations are good,
being able to fill the crevice with your circumcised member and feeling the
rock tighten around it. You reach the top and fall down through it in a series
of convulsions. The cold, toothless mouth soaks up your seed and spits out the
orb. You wipe it clean and tuck it back into the sheets."
S1326: "Your hand almost gets stuck as you thrust it into the crevice."
S1327: "You fill the crevice with water.
"
S1328: "You poke in the crevice with the yadu, but to no avail."
S1329: "You retrieve the orb glued to the flat circle on the poker and tuck it
back into the sheets."
S1330: "You poke in the crevice with the poker, but to no avail."
S1331: "It won't fit. The crevice is too narrow."
S1332: "
The orb floats up. You tuck it inside the sheets."
S1333: "In the dim light, the fossilised impression of a large insect-like
creature peers at you from the rock surface. "
S1334: "As your pupils expand from the darkness, a fossilised impression of a
large insect-like creature emerges from the rock surface. "
S1335: "The extremities hardly show, dim mottled ghosts flat on the rock face.
But the eye sockets glare with a living intensity.
"
S1336: "You look down from the ledge. It's a long way down.
"
S1337: "A gluey residue sticks to your fingertips."
S1338: "In trying to imagine the creature, you picture an insect-like beast
well over two metres long.
"
S1339: "A gluey residue sticks to your fingertips."
S1340: "Under your feet you feel the seams in-between the cool ceramic tiles of
the floor. You set the lamp on the table. In its steady glow the cupboards,
sink and the woodwork of the alcove seem to be sentient, though paralysed. The
stillness is broken by a deep snoring and the drone of night-time insects
outside the window.
"
S1341: "The cupboards, table, sink, and the woodwork of the alcove are doubled
by dim mirror-images in the floor's ceramic surface. The stillness is broken by
a deep snoring and the drone of night-time insects outside the window.
"
S1342: "
The music of the snore breaks off for a second and begins again on a lower
note."
S1343: "
The cold-sweet fragrance of lilac steals towards you from beyond the open
window."
S1344: "
The trees outside the window sigh in unison, exhaling oxygen."
S1345: "As you ascend the stairs, the lamp begins to sputter giving off vague
medicinal fumes that remind you of sick-rooms.
"
S1346: "You grab the lamp tightly and enter the alcove.
"
S1347: "Your sensitive nostrils pick up the scent of food wafting from
northwest. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you haven't eaten for
several hours.
"
S1348: "You grab the lamp and slip into the pantry.
"
S1349: "With unusual swiftness you grab the lamp and slip into the pantry. The
thought of food makes your movements quick and airy.
"
S1350: "A deep snore emanates from southwest."
S1351: "The ceiling shows cracks and a deep redness, as if pipes under the
second floor were slowly leaking menstrual fluid."
S1352: "Their brainless voices are used to being ignored, a kind of carpet in
the night air to cover up the silence that might remind you of death."
S1353: "You move in barefooted silence across the tiles. Resting your forehead
on the glass, you watch the black extensiveness outside press tightly against
the panes. Your breath makes a circle of vapour which fades away even before
you reach the other end of the table."
S1354: "The cold-sweet fragrance of lilac steals towards you from beyond the
open window."
S1355: "You move in barefooted silence across the tiles.

"
S1356: "Whitewash flakes and mouse droppings accumulate on your sticky soles as
you move in barefooted silence across the tiles.

"
S1357: "The night is so black that the window is partly a mirror in which your
soft pudginess glances back at you with a hint of double chin and puffy cheeks.
Looking through your ghost, you search for a glint of colour, a movement,
before returning to the table.
"
S1358: "You'd never squeeze through the bars. Years of culinary over-indulgence
have left a mark on your physique."
S1359: "Old and quaint, the sink has proven capricious and too complex in
operation. Only the servants know how to make use of it.
"
S1360: "The hissing, as from a captive serpent, startles you."
S1361: "The moon illuminates the woodwork, but leaves the interior of the
alcove diffusely lit.
"
S1362: "Cupboards line the northern wall from floor to ceiling, their ranks
broken only by a sink and the entrance to the pantry to the northwest.
"
S1363: "There is no reason for the contents to be even remotely glimpsed. But
they must be there, filling the corners of the unseen, lurking beyond what the
eye captures."
S1364: "The cupboards are already closed."
S1365: "Thick dribbles of dried paint stream down the cupboards."
S1366: "Your toes are pink against the cold whiteness of the tiles. A trace of
blood disappears under the table.
"
S1367: "Being tense, you notice things you never had before; the moon
reflecting off the floor, the hexagonal shape of the tiles, the way the trace
of blood contrasts against their whiteness as it disappears under the table...

"
S1368: "You feel the seams in-between the tiles."
S1369: "Water stands up in globules on the fresh-waxed oak. "
S1370: "The table stretches nearly the length of the kitchen, almost all the
way to the window.
"
S1371: "Solid and soft with that placid semblance of life that only wood
retains."
S1372: "Too much physical activity can be detrimental to your health."
S1373: "Setting the lamp on the floor, you take a look under the table.

"
S1374: "- Monsters. Unspeakable. Unspeakable. -

"
S1375: "His black eyes are bulging and his feet are curled. Though scarcely
marked, Yorick is dead. Tears come to your eyes as you realise with visionary
clarity that his death is your fault. "
S1376: "you whisper through the lump in your throat.

"
S1377: "You can't leave him like this. You pick up the dead hamster and
carefully wrap his corpse in winding sheet. Your hands are shaking as you put
the lamp back on the kitchen table.
"
S1378: "You can't leave him like this. Your hands are shaking as you put the
dead hamster on the kitchen table.
"
S1379: "
The table, sink and cupboards remain motionless, indifferent to Yorick's
tragedy.

"
S1380: "- How callous, cold and spiritless seem to me all the uses of this
world! -

"
S1381: "Sweet certainty invades your mind: beloved Yorick must be buried as
quickly as possible so that he can leave this mortal plane and enter Hamster
Eden.
"
S1382: "filled to the brim with morellos."
S1383: "You'd have to remove the morellos first."
S1384: "It would be far too cumbersome to carry around."
S1385: "Ripe and full of juice under their black skins.
"
S1386: "Fruit before the meal? How beastly!"
S1387: "You are sated, almost bloated by the insipid sweetness, in no position
to be tempted by yet another morello."
S1388: "The juice bursts obscenely against your lips. You hold the stone in
your mouth to suck the last of its pulp and, puckering your lips, spit it out
on the table. All that remains is a mawkish after-taste.
"
S1389: "Every globule has its speck of whiteness, its point of reflected light,
gleaming in the water like a fire-fly in a jar."
S1390: "You wipe the droplets off the table."
S1391: "You wipe the droplets off the table and lick your fingers. They taste
like... nothing, really."
S1392: "You duck your head in avoidance of low-hanging lambs' legs and
kielbasas. Setting the lamp on a butcher's table you let your eyes roam shelves
crammed with cheese, bottles of Tokaji, cakes and massive jars filled with
honey, jam, walnuts and preserves.
"
S1393: "Shelves crammed with cheese, bottles of Tokaji, cakes, and massive jars
filled with jam, walnuts and preserves line the walls. Beneath dangling
tendrils of beef-and-lamb sausages suspended from a pole stands a butcher's
table.
"
S1394: "You feel as Adam must have felt when he left the Garden of Eden.
"
S1395: "Top-heavy, your belly so large and so full it rebells at the slightest
movement, you move gingerly, fearing you might burst at any moment.
"
S1396: "You peer into the kitchen, half-expecting to see Oksana lurking in the
shadows. No one there.
"
S1397: "A high stone table top rests on scrolling wrought iron legs.
"
S1398: "Ungainly you try to heave yourself on top of the table, but years of
sloth and culinary over-indulgence have weakened your muscles and made you
heavy."
S1399: "High up in the ceiling dangling tendrils of beef-and-lamb sausages are
suspended from a pole.
"
S1400: "Suspended from the ceiling dangles a pole hung with dried beef-and-lamb
kielbasas for which the servants have obscene names."
S1401: "The kielbasas smell so good, you fear the aromas might wake the
servants up."
S1402: "You feel the small bumps of fat under the skin."
S1403: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with kielbasa so close
to bedtime. Well... maybe just a tiny chunk then."
S1404: "The crackle as the sausage breaks in two reminds you of dogs crunching
bones. You almost choke as you stuff your mouth with a large piece of kielbasa.
Rich flavours and complex aromas fire up your palate.

"
S1405: "- Truly, food in which no unclean Gentile could join me! He would think
he was eating fire and burn his mouth. -

"
S1406: "You love this food that contains no disgusting proof of slain animals,
no bloody slab of lamb or sinewy cut of beef. These ghosts have been minced and
destroyed and merged with the strong perfume of Hungarian red pepper.
"
S1407: "A bite mark, smaller than a man's but much larger than a rat's, is
visible on one of the lambs' legs. In trying to picture the creature that could
have left the mark, you draw a blank.
"
S1408: " you whisper to yourself as you notice that one of the legs sways
slightly as it hangs suspended high up in the ceiling. You can't recall
disturbing it. How could you when it's out of reach?
"
S1409: "Shelves crammed with meat, cheese, honey, cakes, jam, walnuts and
massive jars filled with preserves line the walls."
S1410: "An earthenware jar brimful with walnuts."
S1411: "You feel the individual bumps on the shell."
S1412: "The aroma of nuts intermingled with cheese and smoked meat smells
heavenly."
S1413: "It probably isn't a good idea to eat walnuts so close to bedtime.
Well... maybe just one then."
S1414: "You pick up a walnut from the bowl and set it on the table. Bringing
your fist down you smash the shell, then sift through the pieces to extract the
kernel. Two perfect hemispheres, curled and coiled, like lightweight tiny
brains wrapped in a thin, bitter skin. You love the way, when you hold one in
your mouth a few seconds and then gently work it between your molars, it
breakes into two halves, the skin rough and sourish and the fissure smooth and
sweet.

"
S1415: "Thick walnut oil oozes out and coats your tongue.
"
S1416: "Inside each nut are tiny brains, two perfect hemispheres, curled and
coiled. At least that's what you expect to find, once you break it apart."
S1417: "The king of wines, the wine for kings. Tokaji aszu six puttonyos, a
deliciously forbidden fruit. Impeccably kosher, at least according to your late
father.
"
S1418: "The other bottles are corked, and you dare not open a new one."
S1419: "You spot a half-empty bottle of Tokaji tucked behind an earthenware
jar. Has the old booze-hound Danylko been on a wine binge again?

You remove the cork with one tug and empty the remains in several thirsty
gulps.

"
S1420: "- Has my body grown wings? Truly, I had to fly to the extremest height
to drink from the fountain of delight! -

"
S1421: "Alcohol merges with your blood sending a flush of warmth throughout
your body and painting the world with rosy tints of giggly amusement."
S1422: "You perform the Mitzvah of Vehalachta Vidrachav, thanking Hashem for
something new in this world that is good and beautiful: first class gourmet
kosher cheese.

"
S1423: "Cheese kreplach, matza kugel, cheese blintzes, crumbly cheddar, knishes
stuffed with twarog, all impeccably kosher, never touched by an unclean Gentile
or despoiled by a menstruating woman.
"
S1424: "A malodorous air wafts through the pantry, adding a richly foul stench
to the complex conglomerate of aromas."
S1425: "Your nose wriggles with excitement."
S1426: "Some are soft and runny, others are hard and crumbly."
S1427: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with cheese so close to
bedtime. Well... maybe just a nibble then."
S1428: "You select only the choicest delicacies, having a nibble here and a
nibble there.

"
S1429: "- A knish or two for starters... no, the kugel's better! Some cream
cheese and a spot of kreplach as well... I think I'll have a cheese blintz
too... a knish stuffed with twarog, just to rid the salty aftertaste... - "
S1430: "You spread some cream cheese on a bagel and crown it with a thin slice
of lox.

"
S1431: "- Has my body grown wings? Truly, I had to fly to the extremest height
to claim a seat in Paradise! -
"
S1432: "Dozens of hand-labelled jars of jam line the shelves."
S1433: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with jam so close to
bedtime. Well... maybe just a tiny spoonful then."
S1434: "A jar of strawberry jam opens with a pop. Stale and rubbery with a sour
aftertaste. No wonder, it's dated five years back. The feeling, though, of the
first spoonful mingling with your saliva and prickling your taste buds is not
entirely unpleasant. Fermentation is, much as life, a kind of rot, an
unavoidable decay.
"
S1435: "A wide selection of sweets and cakes adorns the shelves.
"
S1436: "The babkas are soft, and yet not soggy."
S1437: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with sweets so close to
bedtime. Well... maybe just a little nibble then."
S1438: "Tentatively, you take a piece of angel food cake, thinking it will be
stale and dry, and are delighted to have it become in your mouth mild, elastic
jelly. Encouraged by this, you continue your culinary reconnaissance with
fruity hamantaschen, chocolate-filled babkas, a handful or two of petites
madeleines, jam turnover, star-shaped hanukkah cookies, crumbly butter-smelling
rugelah, even halla, so sweet and gluey it obliterates every other flavour.

"
S1439: "An orgasmic spasm surges through your body, making the loose flesh
under your chin quiver like jelly. As the convulsions subside, you notice a
lonely sesame cookie sitting all by itself on a shelf. You break it in two,
intending to save one half for later, but the first half is so good you eat the
second, and even scoop the sweet crumbs from the shelf into your palm and with
your tongue lick them all up like an anteater.
"
S1440: "Jars of honey, in all shades from gold to brown, array the shelves.
"
S1441: "You suck a blob of honey off your fingertip."
S1442: "A complex conglomerate of aromas."
S1443: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with honey so close to
bedtime. Well... maybe just a tiny little dribble then."
S1444: "You thrust your hand into each and every jar, retrieving a mouthful of
honey each time. Comb honey with crunchy wax cells, light and mild clover,
delicate blueberry, cider-like apple blossom, strong-tasting sage and
buckwheat... As you reach the twentieth jar, you take a short break before
continuing.

"
S1445: "you exclaim upon reaching jar twenty-eight, struggling against
sugar-induced hallucinations.
"
S1446: "Giant jars of preserves line the shelves.
"
S1447: "It probably isn't a good idea to stuff yourself with preserves so close
to bedtime."
S1448: "You thrust your hand into the jar and grasp a large pickled cucumber
which you retrieve expertly by its little "tail"."
S1449: " But wait! Won't it clash with the sweets you just ate? "
S1450: "Through a thin crack in a door you glimpse ugly male feet sticking out
from under the bedclothes. You quietly close Shabbas-goy Danylko's door. You
walk softly along the hall until you reach a door left ajar. You push it open a
little further. Your eyes trace the shape of her body under the blankets. "
S1451: "you mumble under your breath. The air is rank and overcharged with
aphrodisiac vapours.
"
S1452: "The alcove serves as a hallway of sorts giving on the servants' rooms.
Closed doors line the walls hinting at rooms, occupied or not. The door to
Oksana's bedroom stands ajar.
"
S1453: "You peer into the kitchen, half-expecting to see ghosts lurking in the
shadows. No one there.
"
S1454: "Closed doors line the walls hinting at rooms, occupied or not. The door
to Oksana's bedroom stands ajar."
S1455: "You remain standing in the doorway, not venturing to make a sound,
hearing only her breath rising at regular intervals."
S1456: "The door to her bedroom stands ajar."
S1457: "Opening it any further might wake her."
S1458: "Your eyes wander aimlessly before resting on the shape under the
blankets."
S1459: "A needy drunk who lights stoves, opens gift-wrapped presents and cleans
during the Sabbath. Better not wake him up.
"
S1460: "She refuses to remain the same. Constantly changing, slithering,
retreating, she presents you with a different woman every time you look.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1461: "Her elbow bends at a 90-degree angle, forming the Holy Letter Dalet.
What is this? Does it mean nothing, or is she making code for the deepest
meanings?

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1462: "The figure beneath the blankets makes faint movements. A knee raises
slowly forming a cone from the points of which the folds slope to the mattress.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1463: "There is a sudden tension in her face. Eyeballs move frantically under
closed lids and her eyebrows knit up a vertical wrinkle between them. Perhaps
all is not well in Otherworld?

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1464: "Something disturbs her slumber and she kicks in her sleep. Her agitated
lips seem be murmuring prayers in some strange tongue.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table."
S1465: "A carriage goes rattling past in the street, but her features remain
motionless.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1466: "She touches her lips, raising her hand to them with such a deliberate
motion that for a moment you are convinced that she is about to wake.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1467: "An unseen gnat buzzes near her face. Her tongue uncoils, so fast you
don't see it slither out and back in; only the forked tip glistens in the dim
light. The buzzing stops.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1468: " she mumbles in her sleep. You become unnaturally still. Hashem's name
makes you feel guilty, even when uttered in an unholy tongue.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1469: "Her knees spread like the wings of a resting butterfly and her hand
slips under the blanket. She sinks deeper into the pillow and a lush grin in
the manner of the Cheshire Cat spreads her cheeks apart.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1470: "For a moment intelligence is present in her feline face, like an eager
carnivorous power. Then, the spread of lamplit hair wiggles as she turns her
head and subsides into a murmur, mumbling something in Ukrainian.

Her pyjama bottoms lie crumpled at the foot of a night-table.
"
S1471: "The thought alone fills you with dread."
S1472: "You picture her tied naked and spread-eagle on her bed, a gag in her
mouth. She tenses at your threat to bite, but you cling there, your teeth bared
deep inside her thighs, crying out that it is not her body you want, but her
soul. Your neck almost snaps as she squeezes your head like a nut in a
nutcracker. Through repeated rapes you teach her to love you with her heart,
not her cunt.

Then, the absurdity of the situation strikes you; the comicality of your
images, the foolishness of your feelings."
S1473: "The moment has passed, perhaps forever."
S1474: "You can scarcely resist, but feel that to succumb to the desire would
require as much audacity as an abduction of her. Your heart beats loud and the
moment passes, perhaps forever."
S1475: "You have no wish to say anything. You are Samson blinded with desire."
S1476: "From the door, you can just reach her foot sticking out from under the
blankets. You touch it cautiously, the way you would touch a canvas when the
museum guard isn't looking."
S1477: "From the door, you can just reach in to the cramped room and guiltily
lift the blankets, revealing a triangle of blonde curls, skimpish enough to see
the slit through."
S1478: "You listen to the melodious purring of her sleep."
S1479: "Shameful thoughts sweeten your mind."
S1480: "You want her, and yet you dare not wake her. The sight of her asleep
will have to do, for now, until she wakes."
S1481: "Your relationship was at the very start established with her in charge,
and all the months since your father hired her, months of hidden meetings and
hushed, frenzied lovemaking sessions, haven't disrupted the fundamental pattern
of her commanding and you obeying."
S1482: "Your eyes trace the outline of her body under the blankets.

"
S1483: "The tiny vase seems as remote as the records of your sins that angels
are keeping.
"
S1484: "You feel bulky and swollen as you squeeze through the gap; your
shoulders are Og and Goliath as they brush the door and its frame. The retreat
is rapid and nervous, as if every surface were a white-hot coal to be touched
by a bare foot only for an instant.

"
S1485: "a whisper from your inner dark.

"
S1486: "A Jew who commits a sin can no longer partake in the glory of Hashem.

"
S1487: "- Adonai Hashem, I will now toss the vase. If you think I should return
it to its rightful owner, suspend it in the air, if not, let it fall to the
ground. -

"
S1488: " you smile cunningly as you pick the vase up from the floor and tuck it
inside the sheets.
"
S1489: "Dabs of pink well up on the pillow, as if in answer to the fainter
shadows of this colour in Oksana's skin.
"
S1490: "Her fanning spread of lamplit hair is not blond clear through, but
blond in many shades: oak, honey, ash, even amber. Her skin exhibits that
pinkish hue you find so attractive in Aryan girls.
"
S1491: "Dribbles of sperm cover her fanning spread of lamplit hair.
"
S1492: "Her girlish yawn is a flower of impeccably white teeth and plush arched
tongue.
"
S1493: "You can think of at least three reasons why she goes to bed without her
pyjama bottoms: to facilitate masturbatory access, to avoid the tease and
tension of drawstrings and buttons, to encourage lascivious thoughts in the
minds of those who watch her sleep."
S1494: "She would surely miss them in the morning. Would she once again make
you kiss her feet and whip you with a spatula? But if anyone ever sees those
marks on your back, she's going to find herself out of work.

Still, your hunger to own something that belongs to her is stronger than the
fear of losing her. Your eyes dart to the tiny vase on the night-table."
S1495: "The vase has sated your fetishist hunger."
S1496: "Shameful thoughts sweeten your mind."
S1497: "To the east the ridge slopes sharply downhill for several hundred
metres, then more gently forming a wide meadow. To the west stretch newly
scythed fields. A pear tree standing at the roadside offers late treasures but
little shadow as the sun torches the country road, which continues south where
it disappears into a gully. To the north the road turns from dust to gravel to
rocks.
"
S1498: "To the north the road turns from dust to gravel to rocks."
S1499: "- Alas, poor me! Poor, unhappy and tender-toed! - "
S1500: "The dirt road is trod smooth, but embedded pebbles stab your feet, with
the force of your weight.
"
S1501: "The coarse gravel and sharp rocks hurt your feet."
S1502: "- Alas, poor me! Poor, unhappy and tender-toed! - "
S1503: "The dirt road is trod smooth, but embedded pebbles stab your feet, with
the force of your weight.
"
S1504: "The stubble cuts your bare feet. You retreat discomfited."
S1505: "The slope is too steep to climb down."
S1506: "A black dot slowly moves through the spreading branches of the pear
tree.
"
S1507: "The tree is impossible to climb without a long ladder, and there is
none leaning against it."
S1508: "You try shaking the tree, because after all the branches "
S1509: " look as if they would snap at any moment. But they hold vigilant and
nothing falls from above."
S1510: "There is a nest in the top branches of the pear tree.
"
S1511: "You spot a nest in the top branches of the pear tree.
"
S1512: "Pears are hanging everywhere on the high branches. Ripe, juicy pears
that are so large that they look as if the branches would snap at any moment.
"
S1513: "A bulky structure of sticks lined with grass, so heavy it bends the
branch it perches on. Straining your eyes you can see a glint in the nest.
"
S1514: "The young birds in the nest are crying noisily.
"
S1515: "You miss, again. The heads inside the nest grow more agitated."
S1516: "You miss hitting another branch altogether. Immediately, two and then a
third head appear out of the nest."
S1517: "Something glints inside the nest.
"
S1518: "You squint, trying to focus on the slowly moving dot. A distant
balloon? A soaring vulture?
"
S1519: "Standing amid the crackling stubble fields you are visited by the
sudden feeling that what's floating between the branches of the pear tree, what
you have come to meet, is not a bird or a balloon but something much more
ominous and intimate: your own death in the shape of an indeterminate black
dot.
"
S1520: "Bales of hay are dotted around the golden fields of stubble.
"
S1521: "The stubble field shouts and crackles in the fire of the afternoon."
S1522: "The rich stench of rotting hay permeates the syrupy air."
S1523: "Stacked high awaiting transport.
"
S1524: "Inside the meadow are slowly moving specks.
"
S1525: "From the distance, they appear no larger than ants held at arm's
length.
"
S1526: "The dusty country road continues south where it disappears into a
gully.
"
S1527: "You bend and collect a handful of dirt, bringing it to your nose. The
smell of dry earth, like ashes in the wind, brings you back to the days when
your father was still alive."
S1528: "You're already standing on the country road."
S1529: "To the north the country road is strewn with sharp rocks.
"
S1530: "There is no need to start a collection."
S1531: "You pick a rock that fits comfortably in the palm of your hand."
S1532: "Though baked by the sun, the stones feels cooler than the air."
S1533: "You can only see the mouth of the gully from here.
"
S1534: "Summer's voracious growth forces a host of impudent creatures on you.
Horseflies driven mad by your sweat buzz in frantic orbits around your head.
Thickets of weed sizzle and seethe along the almost vertical walls of sediment
and vegetation. A red fox set ablaze by the fierce afternoon sun sizes you up
contemptuously before trotting off to the south, where the gully deepens and
opens on a river.

A trickle of sweat breaks from your temples.
"
S1535: "Thickets of weed sizzle and seethe along the almost vertical walls of
sediment and vegetation. To the south the gully deepens and opens on a river.
"
S1536: "
Within a single flap of a hummingbird's wings, an entire angelic conversation
transpires inaudibly around you."
S1537: "
A tiny lizard skitters across your feet, as if your body had joined the
seething chorus of the gully."
S1538: "
High up, on a side of the gully, a small rabbit pauses. Its chest shows a sharp
bulge as the creature lifts its head and eyes you warily, ears standing up and
turned in your direction. It hops out of sight before you have a chance to
inter-act with it."
S1539: "
In the unshaded sections of the gully the sun leans down with an oppressive
weight."
S1540: "To the north is the ridge, where you came from."
S1541: "To the south the gully opens on a river."
S1542: "The sides of the gully are too steep to climb."
S1543: "You sweat profusely, constantly mopping your forehead with the back of
your hand.
"
S1544: "You mop your forehead with the back of your hand."
S1545: "Wolf's bane, squill, fool's parsley and devil's snuff box surface from
the anonymity of indiscriminate green. Although there is no breath of wind, the
plants lift crisply when recognised, as if saluting a potential suicide.
"
S1546: "You pull a weed revealing a tap root with long black hairs extending
from it. There's something red and sticky on one of the leaves. The sight of
your blood almost makes you swoon. Disgusted by nature's petty vindictiveness,
you throw the weed back into the thicket."
S1547: "Waxy green wands and tongues of fleshy leaves and airy yellow heads
sticky with pollen. An unwanted wealth of weeds fills the gully to its brim."
S1548: "The gully is resonant with flies."
S1549: "The earth radiates warmth and a faint perfume of carrion."
S1550: "A thatch of dead leaves and decomposing animal matter masks the earth."
S1551: "Guarding your eyes you stoop low into a dense vegetable heat. Thorns
prickle your hands while gnats and flies patter and nip at your face. A thatch
of dead leaves and decomposing animal matter masks the earth."
S1552: "Broad rounded leaves and yellow flowers.
"
S1553: "When rubbed, the leaves emit a fragrant odour."
S1554: "A bulb with white fleshy leaves.
"
S1555: "Spores puff out as the ball opens up into a toothless mouth."
S1556: "A slender stem with dark green leaves supports umbrella shaped clusters
of flowers.
"
S1557: "When rubbed, the leaves emit a fragrant odour."
S1558: "They have found the true love of their tiny lives.
"
S1559: "You swat at a fly buzzing near your face."
S1560: "You try catching a fly in mid-air, but it evades you with ease."
S1561: "You glimpse a river through the weeds.
"
S1562: "To the north is the ridge, where you came from.
"
S1563: "A few X-shaped stakes rotting in the water is all that remains of a
crude bridge that has been swept away. West and east, tall, impenetrable
thickets block your view. South, on the opposite bank, you see a ferry. "
S1564: "
A dragonfly skims the water's surface."
S1565: "
A fish turned belly-up floats quietly downstream."
S1566: "
The thundering flap of wings soaks up all other sounds. All colours immediately
fall an octave lower and the bank fills with shadows, as if it had sunk to the
bottom of the river. As you look up, the colours return."
S1567: "
Sun bakes your shoulders."
S1568: "
You can sense Jacob and Rebecca sing. Their song is a terrifying motionless
whisper."
S1569: "To the north is the gully, where you came from."
S1570: "To the north is the gully, where you came from.
"
S1571: "You are already on the river bank."
S1572: "A few X-shaped stakes rotting in the water is all that remains of a
crude bridge that had been swept away."
S1573: "Antlers stick up above the surface of the water.
"
S1574: "Not far from the water's edge you notice antlers sticking up above the
surface.
"
S1575: "You kneel by the river's edge and stooping break the surface with a
cupped hand. The water smells of something sweetly rotting."
S1576: "Water stands up in ripples as your big toe disappears beneath the
surface."
S1577: "A pair of feverish brown eyes framed by dishevelled dark hair stare
from the surface."
S1578: "You hear the river's prattling voice."
S1579: "Using the inflated stomach as a buoy, you float downstream for a while
before catching hold of a snag and pulling yourself up on the opposite side of
the river. The stomach slips from your hands and disappears into the water. You
follow a path into a forest.
"
S1580: "The river may appear calm from where you stand, but the current is
strong. If you could only find something that could keep you afloat."
S1581: "A dragonfly skims the water and deep green grass waves lazily below the
surface.
"
S1582: "The remains of Isaac, Rebecca, Jacob, Esau and their nameless siblings
are spread across a wall of thorny weeds. Bluebells surround the site of
carnage, luxuriating quietly in the sun, indifferent to Isaac's and Rebecca's
tragedy.
"
S1583: "A fox, a weasel, or some other vicious creature, had driven an entire
family of rabbits from its burrow and pinned them against a wall of thorny
weeds. Pieces of fluffy fur and rags of flesh, which the creature had obviously
found unappetising, stick to the thorns. Their demise is easy to imagine.
Curled into themselves, and too terrified to utter a sound, they were picked
off, one at a time. Did they die nameless?

"
S1584: "- I name thee Isaac, and thee Rebecca, and thou shall be called Jacob,
and thou shall be known by the name of Esau. -"
S1585: " you pontificate pointing at the remains. The rest remain nameless.
Mother Nature must not be overburdened with mythology.
"
S1586: "The damp earth radiates warmth and a faint perfume of carrion."
S1587: "You can sense Jacob and Rebecca sing. Their song is a terrifying
motionless whisper."
S1588: "Pieces of fur, rags of flesh, scraps of entrails. Incomprehensible
instruments of life."
S1589: "The weeds are too thick to walk in."
S1590: "You see the figure of tall man in a grey cloak standing on the ferry.
"
S1591: "The rock splashes in the water near the ferry, eliciting no response
from the ferryman."
S1592: "He stands with his back turned to you.
"
S1593: "You shake your fist at the ferryman. No reaction."
S1594: "The rock splashes in the water near the ferry, eliciting no response
from the ferryman."
S1595: "The deer's eyes are not fearful or even alert, just two bubbles of
brown jelly, wide open and unblinking, calmly gazing at you from under the
water.
"
S1596: "With truly Samsonian strength you pull the deer up by its antlers and
drag it onto the river's shore. You hold a hand to your nose and mouth. The
musty perfume of decaying flesh almost knocks you out.
"
S1597: "In the middle of the grove stands a darkly red slab of stone. An old
oak surfaces from the anonymity of green.
"
S1598: "The grove is encircled by trees. An old oak surfaces from the anonymity
of green.
"
S1599: "Dogs and horses hang along with men and women. Most of the corpses are
old, but some look fresh."
S1600: "a smooth stone being held with one hand"
S1601: "Among the corpses strung up in the tree hang children, their feet
dangling as the branches bow under their weight."
S1602: "The stone is hollowed out down the middle. Channels run along its
sides, they are spattered with the stains of years. So thick in places is the
dried blood, that none of the original stone shows through.

"
S1603: ""
S1604: "You know with certainty that this is the book you've been looking for."
S1605: "The binding is immaculate black, had it not been for a slight
discoloration the shape of an abnormally elongated thumb.
"
S1606: "Enkryptykon being held in a tremulous grip"
S1607: "Ancient, bound in cracked leather too thin to be animal hide."
S1608: "No, not after what you've gone through to get it."
S1609: "The writing is in an alien tongue. Only the title is legible. Time is
precious."
S1610: "With your arms tied behind your back your face is being smashed against
a slab of stone. A man much stronger than you is holding you down with one arm
and wielding a knife with the other. You struggle, but you are no match for his
strength. Your vision is constrained to a fringe of wood and a slice of sky. In
the corner of your eye you see something hovering high above the grove.
"
S1611: "
His fingers are claws entwined in your hair, twisting your head so your throat
is exposed.
"
S1612: "
He begins to sing in a monotonous voice. From the tension in his musculature
you sense that he is just on the point of dealing the stroke.
"
S1613: "You try to free yourself from his grip, but you are no match for his
strength.
"
S1614: "Feathers of iridescence spin off the sun as you squint against the
light. You look away and close your eyes. A fiery silhouette lingers redly on
your retinas."
S1615: "The sky blares a sapphire blue, blemished only by something that looks
nothing as much as a giant moth."
S1616: "Dogs and horses hang along with men and women. Most of the corpses are
old, but some look fresh."
S1617: "Among the corpses strung up in the tree hang children, their feet
dangling as the branches bow under their weight."
S1618: "You can only see his hand and the knife he's wielding."
S1619: "The Holy Letters ThReAyHe are inscribed across the green obsidian."
S1620: "A moth-like creature hovers high above the grove, out of reach,
untouchable, calmly observing what is taking place."
S1621: "The stone is hollowed out down the middle. Channels run along its
sides, they are spattered with the stains of years. So thick in places is the
dried blood, that none of the original stone shows through."
S1622: "Its fibres are thick and coarse."
S1623: "You flex your fingers experimentally. No chance of reaching the knots."
S1624: "The rope is tied, and so are you."
S1625: "This is not something you can replace."
S1626: "For a moment, everything, the bird song, the wind through the trees,
the pulse of blood throbbing in your ears, goes silent. Your scream soaks up
all other sounds."
S1627: "With hands cupped into a megaphone, you empty your lungs with a
deafening roar.

He turns his head in your direction and his face begins to melt and slide. He
cups his hands with the idea of catching it, but the half-molten skin drips
between his fingers. Embarrassed, he turns away."
S1628: "

The balustrade remains motionless, no doubt paralysed by your show of strength
and courage."
S1629: "

The furniture remains motionless, no doubt paralysed by your show of strength
and courage."
S1630: "

The sausages remain motionless, no doubt paralysed by your show of strength and
courage."
S1631: "

The rock walls remain motionless, no doubt paralysed by your show of strength
and courage."
S1632: "You knock on wood. The air has eyes and ears that need placating."
S1633: "Thou shalt not idly utter the name of Jehovah thy God; for Jehovah will
not hold him guiltless that idly uttereth his name.
"
S1634: "You already have access to the ledge."
S1635: "An angel's flaming sword unsheathes in your hand.

A Golem rises from the mud where your seed fell. He turns his head disoriented,
then sniffs and fastens his empty eye-sockets on you. His toothless mouth forms
a smile and mumbles something that sounds almost like "daddy"."
S1636: "You are depleted, empty of seed and devoid of desire. You feel sorry
for your penis, bruised and stretched by a regiment of incessant masturbation."
S1637: "Bliss spins along your nerves making you feel immense, like a god
casually dispatching thunderbolts. For a split second your seed forms a
triumphal arch connecting your circumcised member with the object of worship.
Then, it falls on her hair. Oksana's lips form a mischievous smile. Is she
merely pretending to sleep?

"
S1638: "In the case of a man, the hand that reaches below the navel should be
chopped off.

"
S1639: "An iron collar seems wrapped around your throat, slowly strangling you.
You are certain that as a consequence of your sin, you will die. Your sin is a
conglomerate of Obscenity, Debauchery, Gluttony and, most hideous of them all,
Destruction of the Seed, embodied in the thick dribbles of shocking white in
Oksana's hair."
S1640: "Rather tactless, in the presence of your dead father."
S1641: "The sharp whistle bounces off the walls of the lift carriage."
S1642: "The piercing whistle bounces off distant walls."
S1643: "You put two fingers to your lips and let forth a blast of a whistle."
S1644: "You put two fingers to your lips and let forth a blast of a whistle. No
reaction."
S1645: "This is no time for dancing. Find the book."
S1646: "Your reserve disappears in exuberance as your body becomes the feet of
your dancing soul. Then, you whirl uncontrollably and fall to the ground."
S1647: "If all wishes were granted, many dreams would be destroyed."
S1648: "That is not something you can catch."
S1649: "That is not something you can make."
S1650: "There might be something more suitable for doing that."
S1651: "You pull back the screen and give the spread logs a poke. They snuggle
closer, sparking."
S1652: "

The flat circle on the end of the poker glows red. For a moment, before it
cools, the Holy Letters ThReAyHe are visible on the red hot circle.
"
S1653: "You prod in the soot with the poker, making scraping noises."
S1654: "That wouldn't have any meaningful effect."
S1655: "This is not something you can write on."
S1656: "This is not something you can write on, not now anyway."
S1657: "A brief hint of pain crosses the boy's face, before fading away. A rush
of stale air envelops you. The mirror has disappeared, turning the frame into a
doorway giving on "
S1658: "You write with your finger on the steamed-up glass.
"
S1659: "Mirthfulness is alien to a petrified mind."
S1660: "Frivolity is the province of giggling girls and twaddling fools.

"
S1661: "You can almost hear your father's voice mocking you."
S1662: "(x father)
(ask father about jacek)
(ask father about murder)
w
(x table)
(x yarmulke)
get yarmulke
(x book)
(read book)
(x bed)
get sheets
(x bug)
(catch bug)
(x cage)
(x wheel)
w
(x table)
(x outline)
open cabinet
x nest of darkness
put chimney on lamp
(ne)
(nw)
w
(x desk)
(x yadu)
get yadu
(x carvings)
(x fawn)
insert yadu in fawn's eye
open desk
get notes and matches
(l)
(x clock)
open clock
(x weights)
(x notches)
(x rug)
(x indentations)
(x chair)
push chair to indentations
(x fireplace)
light fireplace
(x books)
read zohar
(x chart)
pull left weight to Te
pull middle weight to Al
pull right weight to Gm
(x mirror)
(x mural)
get poker
touch fourth figure with poker
e
light lamp
n
x tiles
(x Yorick)
sw
(x Oksana)
(x pyjama bottoms)
(get pyjama bottoms)
get vase
out
nw
eat kielbasa
eat jam
eat cakes
eat preserves
eat nuts
eat honey
eat cheese
out
(x table)
(x basin)
eat morellos
(x table)
get morello stone
u
e
(x bed)
(x sconce)
(x lamp)
get glass funnel
w
w
(read notes)
(x chart)
(x candlestick)
(x candle)
lift wick with yadu
light wick
turn owl's head
s
set dial to 6
set dial to 7
set dial to 5
s
light candles
(x moss)
pull moss
(x funnel)
blow funnel
put vase in lake
w
empty vase into crevice
bury yorick in mud
plant morello stone in mud
u
put orb in socket
d
e
u
u
n
e
e
look in mirror
x tree
follow red fox
follow red fox
(x thickets)
x stakes
x antlers
pull antlers
x heap
x stomach
inflate stomach
get stomach
s
x slab
get book
e
tie sheets to balustrade

END OF WALKTHROUGH
"
S1663: "- You will now listen to my voice. -

- My voice will guide you and help you. -

- Every time you hear my voice, with every word and every number, you will gain
a deeper level of insight. -

"
S1664: "- I will now count from one to three. On the count of three you will
examine the stone slab. -

- I say "three"... -
"
S1665: "- I will now count from one to four. On the count of four you will
examine the oak. -

- I say "four"... -
"
S1666: "- I will now count from one to five. On the count of five you will take
the small stone. -

- I say "five"... -
"
S1667: "- I will now count from one to six. On the count of six you will
replace the book with the small stone. -

- I say "six"... -
"
S1668: "
You feel strengthened. Heartfelt learning sustains the spirit like the heart
sustains the body."
S1669: "Copyright 2004 by Tomasz Pudlo (tomaszp AT nycmail DOT com)
"
S1670: "Gamma 1.3z / Inform 6.30 27Feb2004 / Library 6/10

"
S1671: "Two great games have gone into the making of this small one: "
S1672: " by Magnus Olsson is perhaps not a great game, but I found its
implementation of darkness interesting. "
S1673: " gave me my basic situation and Blazej Wulkan's "
S1674: " my tone. I took local colour from Jiri Langer's "
S1675: "The Nine Gates to the Chasidic Mysteries "
S1676: "and the fiction of Szalom Rosenpenis. Richard von Krafft-Ebbing's "
S1677: " and Britney Spears' lyrics have been, and will always remain, a
profound source of inspiration. As you may have noticed, English is not my
native tongue. I hope you won't find my idiom and grammar too awkward. Thanks
to Isaac Deutscher, Theodore Pennypincher III, Steve Evans, James Bond, Graham
Holden, Aaron Krochmal, Adam Thornton, Ludgarda Hill, Michael Lonc, Dr. Acula,
Andy MacDowell, Paul Johnson, Karl Filenius and Dan Shiovitz many bugs were
corrected. If many remain, the fault is mine. I would also like to thank "
S1678: ", and especially Sheronda and Candy, for supporting me financially
during my research.

"
S1679: "A warning is in place here. Before I wrote "
S1680: " I was working on a game with insect protagonists. Julien the beetle
and his best friend, Jacques the centipede, both fall in love with Stefanie the
grasshopper. Stefanie is a modern, intellectual woman determined to live life
as fully as a man. She marries Julien, but her true love is Jacques. War breaks
out between the beetles and the centipedes and Julien and Jacques are
mobilised. Julien sends Stefanie a heart-rending letter from the front.


"
S1681: "Ma Cherie,

I think about you all the time. Not about your soul, because I don't think
insects have souls, not after what I've seen on the front, the senseless
killing, the devaluing of life. What I think about is your antennae, your
femur, your spiracles, your abdomen, the sounds you make by rubbing the small
pegs on your hind legs against the hard vein of your forewings. I miss the
small things, the mundane moments, the embroidery of love.


"
S1682: "Julien discovers that Stefanie has betrayed him with his dearest friend
and seeks solace in death, leading his unit in a suicidal charge against
superior numbers. Mortally wounded, he delivers a heart-breaking (and rather
longish) monologue on special barriers, gender roles, love, friendship and the
senselessness of war. I never finished it, but some of the characters appear in
"
S1683: ", so if you don't like insects, this might be a good time to quit.

"
S1684: "- Is Gamlet suitable for children? -"
S1685: " a complete stranger asked me as I was standing in line to receive Holy
Communion. During the late summer of 2004, while the game was still in Beta, I
played it with my cousins, three girls, aged 10-13. What struck me was that the
innocuous parts bored them, but as soon as Profanity and Debauchery reared
their ugly heads, the girls immediately lighted up, giggling and making funny
faces. Their enthusiasm was, however, not shared by their parents who, after an
incident involving the youngest of the three calling her mother "
S1686: " forbade them to ever play interactive fiction again. So there are
really two answers. If you're a 10-13-year-old girl curious about the changes
you are just starting to go through, Gamlet is a must. If you're her parent,
then you probably shouldn't let her.

"
S1687: "And now the legal stuff. The game you are about to play is based on a
true story. Only the names of characters and milieux have been changed to
protect the innocent. The exception is Jacek Pudlo, from whom I've received a
written permission allowing me to use his name under the condition that I
"print" [sic] his letter. Here it is.


"
S1688: "[the '-ko' suffix is being used here as a condescending diminutive]

"
S1689: "If you have the effrontery to turn your father's death into a cheap
ghost story and accuse your relatives of foul play, better do it in the guise
of this so-called "interactive fiction" than through a serious medium. It's
true that I had an affair with your mother shortly before your father's death
and that he had died while relieving himself, but neither of us had anything to
do with his demise. The circumstances of his death may have been "foul", but
there was nothing unnatural about them. We are both very sorry that the
disclosure of our shortlived affair has hurt your feelings. Your mother wishes
you would stop playing drama queen and "
S1690: "[here follows a list of demands, all of which have been scrupulously
ignored]

"
S1691: "I can't conceive why you insist on using my name, nor can I grasp why
you have made me your arch-enemy. The suggestion that I indulge in sexual acts
with male goats is comprehensible only as a juvenile attempt to insult me and
your obsession with genitalia I can only attribute to some childhood trauma.
Nevertheless, here it is, my blessing. Transforming your father's death into a
funfair attraction catering to an infantile audience is vulgar and highly
inappropriate, but still, you have my benediction. I don't suppose your
releasing this little trifle of a game will do me any harm, even if you mention
me by name and do your utmost to soil my reputation. I can only hope that this
is a catharsis of sorts, an attempt, however misguided, to achieve closure.

Yours most sincerely,

Jacek Pudlo     Castle Pudelstein, Gottland, Spring 2004
"
S1692: "With a helpless sigh you surrender to fate."
S1693: "A voice inside your head: Listen to your father."
S1694: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The stakes."
S1695: "You pray to Hashem for a sign, but nothing comes."
S1696: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Enter your bedroom."
S1697: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Enter the landing."
S1698: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: A pious Jew does not walk bareheaded."
S1699: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The sheets on your bed, take them."
S1700: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The carvings on the desk, examine them
closely."
S1701: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Push the armchair to the clock."
S1702: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Read Sepher Zohar."
S1703: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The letters in the clock are in disarray. Look
at the Gematria."
S1704: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: What is the number of the Vigilant Owl? Read
Sepher Bahir."
S1705: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The tiles."
S1706: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The orb is as light as a feather."
S1707: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

An impatient whisper from inside your head: A cunt needs filling."
S1708: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Put Yorick to his rest."
S1709: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Do as Onan."
S1710: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The moss."
S1711: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Do as Joshua did before the walls of Jericho."
S1712: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: Aren't you a bit peckish?"
S1713: "You pray to Hashem for a sign.

A whisper from inside your head: The balusters."
S1714: "You pray to Hashem for a sign, but nothing comes."
S1715: "The shrill noise of your makeshift trumpet is quickly deadened by the
moss on the cave's wall"
S1716: "Your makeshift trumpet emits a shrill blast that echoes off distant
walls."
S1717: "Your makeshift trumpet emits a shrill blast that echoes off distant
walls."
S1718: "with one hand and press it to your lips like a ram's horn. With
balloon-like cheeks, eyes half-closed and your belly drawn in to half its size,
you fill your lungs to their brim and empty them with a deafening gust.

"
S1719: "changes shapes, growing thinner and thicker as it seems to mimic the
call of beasts. First, it cranes likes the wolf's neck, howling fiendishly.
Then, it swells and roars like a lion. As the last air leaves your lungs it
shifts shape again, elongating and coiling like a boa constrictor. This time it
mimics no beast you've ever heard; its sound is more terrifying than a lion's
roar and more fiendish than a wolf's howl.

As if in response to the echo hanging in the air, a section of the western wall
collapses before your eyes, leaving an entryway to a dimly lit chamber.
"
S1720: "You can go west (to the bedroom).
"
S1721: "You can go east (to the balcony) or west (to the landing).
"
S1722: "You can go east (to your bedroom), west (to the study), northwest (to
the guestrooms) or northeast (to your mother's bedroom).
"
S1723: "You can go east (to the bedroom), west (to the study), northeast (to
your mother's bedroom), northwest (to the guestrooms) or north (downstairs).
"
S1724: "You can go east (to the landing).
"
S1725: "You can go east (to the landing) or south (to the lift).
"
S1726: "You can go south (to the landing), southwest (to the servants' rooms)
or northwest (to the pantry).
"
S1727: "You can go northeast (to the kitchen).
"
S1728: "You can go north (to the study).
"
S1729: "You can go north (to the study) or down (to the cave).
"
S1730: "There is a feeling of openness to the south. You can travel up (to the
study).
"
S1731: "You can go south (to the cave) or up (to the study).
"
S1732: "You can go north (to the lift) or west (to the chamber).
"
S1733: "You can go east (to the cave) or climb up (to the ledge).
"
S1734: "You can climb down (to the chamber).
"
S1735: "You can go north (to the ridge) or south (to the river bank).
"
S1736: "You can go south (to the gully).
"
S1737: "You can go southeast (to the kitchen).
"
S1738: "
[You can type EXITS for a list of available exits. If your screen is wide
enough, you should also be able to see a list of the exits on the status line.]
"
S1739: "You work rapidly, fearing that the servants might awake. A reef is
right over left and under, then left over right and under. Or is it?

Your hands seem to have a will of their own, skillfully avoiding both the
deceptive thief and the undesirable granny. Though it's hard to move them
between the balusters without getting your knuckles skinned, you somehow manage
to produce an adequate knot without over-heating your already-stressed mind
with feats and prodigies of calculation.

You hesitate. What if the sheets break? "
S1740: "you mutter. You will play whatever comes off the deck. It's too late to
quit the game now.

"
S1741: "Your descent is accompanied by your indifferent shadow, whose feet
touch yours as your toes rub the wall in search of solid ground. As you had
prayed before hurdling the balustrade, the trottoir is reached without the
improvised rope's breaking.


"
S1742: "Where to? As you move barefooted along the deserted street, the nagging
question merges with the soreness in your feet, their toes made tender by the
daring descent down the rough facade.

Sweet certainty invades your mind as you recall your father mentioning
Mickiewicz.

"
S1743: "- He must have meant the statue in the park! - "
S1744: "you exclaim joyously, proud of having been able to solve a puzzle on
your own.


"
S1745: "You run through a thickening night, clasping the book to your chest.
The streets unfurl with infuriating slowness, their pavement sucking at your
bare soles. The crunch of gravel underneath your feet startles you. You venture
along the crunching path into a different darkness, no longer solid black, but
green-veined, like black marble. The high-pitched thrum of cicadas encircles
you.


"
S1746: "There is a sound, not quite human. Have your crunching feet stirred a
dormant beast? Standing absolutely still, you listen. Gasps, moans and giggles
surround you from all directions. Is the path of horror a lovers' lane? Has the
two-backed beast heaved forth from its cess-pit to hold carnal sabbath? Your
mind slides from the task at hand and darts to the image of fair Oksana. "
S1747: "you exclaim steering your feet towards the statue that has just
unraveled from behind a tree.


"
S1748: "- Choice and Freedom: these lies I offer.
  Bondage and Compulsion: these gifts I bring. -

"
S1749: "You spin around. A vague shape resembling nothing so much as an
enormous praying-mantis acquires substance. Its limbs are incredibly thin, and
its eyes are big, black and gleaming, diamonds of pure night. In their many
facets flames are mirrored.


"
S1750: "- The black of my eyes is 11500 parasangs across. They are an onyx of
indifference. -

"
S1751: "The eyes take you in, letting you know that irony will not overlook
you.


"
S1752: "- At my command, demons sent out your dead father to haunt you. -

"
S1753: "It switches to German, its voice throbbing with a force that can murder
and create.


"
S1754: "- My tongue reaches from one end of the World to the other. Until now I
have never told you a truth. -

"
S1755: "- Tell me, who are you in this terrible form? -


"
S1756: "- My face is a mask of many faces. Creator, Implementor, the Lamb of
God and the Beast from the Abyss. -

"
S1757: "- I am like God, and God like me. I am as large as God, He is as small
as I. He can not above me, nor can I beneath Him be. I am governed by no law
except that of my own whim. I am Jacek. -

"
S1758: "- Uncle? -

- He is but one of my many faces. -

"
S1759: "Its Polish is as impeccable as its Hebrew and German. And yet, it lacks
a regional flavour, as if it knew so many languages that its tongue was never
at home.


"
S1760: "- Now look at me and see in my body the truth. -


"
S1761: "Its body is metamorphosing. Extremities appear at its periphery, and at
their ends you see heads with serpents in their mouths. Eyes open in the heads
and you draw back in fear, as they blink in unison and look down on you. A
sweet fragrance, like that of incense, but with the perfume of carrion, begins
to fill the air.


"
S1762: "- Fortunate are those to whom I show my true form, for it is not
through penance and rituals that you will see me. The syphilis you contracted
in your mother's womb gnaws at your brain and has made you susceptible to a
part of reality that remains closed to most fictional characters. You have
noticed me, and I have noticed that you have noticed me. -

"
S1763: "- It was you who goaded me to those feats and prodigies of calculation
and problem-solving! - "
S1764: "the truth slowly dawns on you.


"
S1765: "- No. That was an entity called "Player". He or she is watching us as
we speak. -

"
S1766: "- So it was Player who made me inflate the dead deer's stomach and go
through hell and high water? Who is this vile and immoral creature who takes
such pleasure in demeaning an innocent child? -

"
S1767: "- Are there more of your kind? -

"
S1768: "- Many, but none as honest as I. I have treated you as an independent
voice capable of dialogue; others keep their playing characters merely as
circus to their players' enjoyment. -

"
S1769: "- Is that all I am, a puppet in a sick mind's game? -


"
S1770: "The heads have multiplied and are now craning their long necks to
surround you and stare at you from all directions. One head comes within
centimetres of your face. The muscles in its forehead bulge like elastic levers
raising the eyebrows in mock surprise.

"
S1771: "- Did you think you were a real person? How profoundly tragic! -

"
S1772: "The heads cock back, a scorpion flashing its many tails.


"
S1773: "- You will now listen to my voice. -

- Every time you hear my voice, with every word and every number, you will gain
a deeper level of insight. -

- I will now count from one to ten. On the count of ten, you will be free. -

- I say "ten"... -


"
S1774: "The strings pulling at you go limp and you fall to the ground, light
years below the stars, your comfort being that you have no further to fall. Is
it possible that a puppet can add its suffering together, the constant pulls
and pushes that are its existence, and turn them into insight? But what use is
insight to a puppet? Will knowing the hand that pulls the strings make you any
less of a plaything?

Gazing upward, searching in the magnitude of stars for the hand that has just
released you, you laugh as you realise how much comedy resides in being a
puppet pulled by another puppet. You wonder what Player feels right now. "
S1775: "- Bless you, for we have both been duped. - "
S1776: "The end and Bang! Who's played it is a Wang!"
S1777: "Tomasz Pudlo is the author of this text adventure game"
S1778: "for purposes of the Berne Convention 15(3) and all"
S1779: "laws giving effect thereto. The events and characters"
S1780: "depicted in this text adventure game are fictitious."
S1781: "Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead"
S1782: "(the exception being Jacek Pudlo), or to actual events,"
S1783: "is purely coincidental."
S1784: "read"
S1785: "read"
S1786: "send message"
S1787: "apply 'ofclass' for"
S1788: ": 'create' can have 0 to 3 parameters only **]"
S1789: "objectloop broken because the object "
S1790: " was moved while the loop passed through it **]"
S1791: ", which is not a valid ZSCII character code for output **]"
S1792: "tried to print (address) on something not the "
S1793: "tried to print (string) on something not a "
S1794: "tried to print (object) on something not an "
S1795: "give" or test "has" or "hasnt" with a non-attribute on the object "
S1796: ", but it is longer than 2 bytes so you cannot use ".""
S1797: "recreate"
S1798: "destroy"
S1799: "copy"
S1800: "copy"
S1801: "<unknown attribute>"
S1802: "name"
S1803: "create"
S1804: "recreate"
S1805: "destroy"
S1806: "remaining"
S1807: "copy"
S1808: "call"
S1809: "print"
S1810: "print_to_array"
S1811: "important"
S1812: "unimportant"
S1813: "furniture"
S1814: "fixed"
S1815: "minuscule"
S1816: "glass"
S1817: "scraping"
S1818: "noBehind"
S1819: "conductor"
S1820: "legible"
S1821: "throwable"
S1822: "faraway"
S1823: "veryfar"
S1824: "sendsSparks"
S1825: "inSheets"
S1826: "room"
S1827: "wood"
S1828: "animate"
S1829: "absent"
S1830: "clothing"
S1831: "concealed"
S1832: "container"
S1833: "door"
S1834: "edible"
S1835: "enterable"
S1836: "general"
S1837: "light"
S1838: "lockable"
S1839: "locked"
S1840: "moved"
S1841: "on"
S1842: "open"
S1843: "openable"
S1844: "proper"
S1845: "scenery"
S1846: "scored"
S1847: "static"
S1848: "supporter"
S1849: "switchable"
S1850: "talkable"
S1851: "transparent"
S1852: "visited"
S1853: "workflag"
S1854: "worn"
S1855: "male"
S1856: "female"
S1857: "neuter"
S1858: "pluralname"
S1859: "before"
S1860: "after"
S1861: "life"
S1862: "n_to"
S1863: "s_to"
S1864: "e_to"
S1865: "w_to"
S1866: "ne_to"
S1867: "se_to"
S1868: "nw_to"
S1869: "sw_to"
S1870: "u_to"
S1871: "d_to"
S1872: "in_to"
S1873: "out_to"
S1874: "door_to"
S1875: "with_key"
S1876: "door_dir"
S1877: "invent"
S1878: "plural"
S1879: "add_to_scope"
S1880: "list_together"
S1881: "react_before"
S1882: "react_after"
S1883: "grammar"
S1884: "orders"
S1885: "initial"
S1886: "when_open"
S1887: "when_closed"
S1888: "when_on"
S1889: "when_off"
S1890: "description"
S1891: "describe"
S1892: "article"
S1893: "cant_go"
S1894: "found_in"
S1895: "time_left"
S1896: "number"
S1897: "time_out"
S1898: "daemon"
S1899: "each_turn"
S1900: "capacity"
S1901: "short_name"
S1902: "short_name_indef"
S1903: "parse_name"
S1904: "articles"
S1905: "inside_description"
S1906: "play"
S1907: "Pronouns"
S1908: "Quit"
S1909: "Restart"
S1910: "Restore"
S1911: "Save"
S1912: "Verify"
S1913: "ScriptOn"
S1914: "ScriptOff"
S1915: "NotifyOn"
S1916: "Score"
S1917: "NotifyOff"
S1918: "Places"
S1919: "Objects"
S1920: "FullScore"
S1921: "Inv"
S1922: "Take"
S1923: "Drop"
S1924: "Remove"
S1925: "PutOn"
S1926: "Insert"
S1927: "EmptyT"
S1928: "Give"
S1929: "Show"
S1930: "Enter"
S1931: "GetOff"
S1932: "Exit"
S1933: "VagueGo"
S1934: "Go"
S1935: "LMode1"
S1936: "LMode2"
S1937: "LMode3"
S1938: "Look"
S1939: "Examine"
S1940: "LookUnder"
S1941: "Search"
S1942: "Unlock"
S1943: "Lock"
S1944: "SwitchOn"
S1945: "SwitchOff"
S1946: "Open"
S1947: "Close"
S1948: "Disrobe"
S1949: "Wear"
S1950: "Eat"
S1951: "Yes"
S1952: "No"
S1953: "Burn"
S1954: "Pray"
S1955: "Wake"
S1956: "WakeOther"
S1957: "Kiss"
S1958: "Think"
S1959: "Smell"
S1960: "Listen"
S1961: "Taste"
S1962: "Touch"
S1963: "Dig"
S1964: "Cut"
S1965: "Jump"
S1966: "JumpOver"
S1967: "Tie"
S1968: "Drink"
S1969: "Fill"
S1970: "Sorry"
S1971: "Strong"
S1972: "Mild"
S1973: "Attack"
S1974: "Swim"
S1975: "Swing"
S1976: "Blow"
S1977: "Rub"
S1978: "Set"
S1979: "SetTo"
S1980: "WaveHands"
S1981: "Wave"
S1982: "Pull"
S1983: "Push"
S1984: "Turn"
S1985: "PushDir"
S1986: "Squeeze"
S1987: "ThrowAt"
S1988: "Tell"
S1989: "Answer"
S1990: "Ask"
S1991: "Buy"
S1992: "Sing"
S1993: "Climb"
S1994: "Wait"
S1995: "Sleep"
S1996: "Consult"
S1997: "parse_input"
S1998: "AskFor"
S1999: "GiveR"
S2000: "ShowR"
S2001: "begin_action"
S2002: "end_turn_sequence"
S2003: "compasslook"
S2004: "Smile"
S2005: "Transfer"
S2006: "Scream"
S2007: "TouchWith"
S2008: "infinite"
S2009: "Empty"
S2010: "Masturbate"
S2011: "being_held"
S2012: "Twirl"
S2013: "LookBehind"
S2014: "AttackWith"
S2015: "JumpIn"
S2016: "correct"
S2017: "Deny"
S2018: "Hello"
S2019: "Poke"
S2020: "Lift"
S2021: "Catch"
S2022: "Untie"
S2023: "Version"
S2024: "Stand"
S2025: "InvTall"
S2026: "InvWide"
S2027: "GoIn"
S2028: "SwimVague"
S2029: "SitVague"
S2030: "Read"
S2031: "DigVague"
S2032: "Say"
S2033: "InsideVague"
S2034: "OutsideVague"
S2035: "Hide"
S2036: "Knock"
S2037: "God"
S2038: "Whistle"
S2039: "Rape"
S2040: "Suicide"
S2041: "Strike"
S2042: "Replace"
S2043: "Win"
S2044: "Dance"
S2045: "WriteOn"
S2046: "Step"
S2047: "Make"
S2048: "Plant"
S2049: "Dirs"
S2050: "About"
S2051: "Help"
S2052: "Hint"
S2053: "Walkthrough"
S2054: "LetGo"
S2055: "Receive"
S2056: "ThrownAt"
S2057: "Order"
S2058: "TheSame"
S2059: "PluralFound"
S2060: "ListMiscellany"
S2061: "Miscellany"
S2062: "Prompt"
S2063: "NotUnderstood"
S2064: "WindowSaid"
S2065: "StudySaid"
S2066: "FireplaceSaid"
S2067: "BedroomSaid"
S2068: "FlameSaid"
S2069: "KitchenSaid"
S2070: "GulleySaid"
S2071: "RiverSaid"
S2072: "GolemSaid"
S2073: "mirror_text"
S2074: "the_timers"
S2075: "inputobjs"
S2076: "multiple_object"
S2077: "kept_results"
S2078: "pattern"
S2079: "pattern2"
S2080: "line_ttype"
S2081: "line_tdata"
S2082: "line_token"
S2083: "match_list"
S2084: "match_classes"
S2085: "match_scores"
S2086: "buffer"
S2087: "parse"
S2088: "buffer2"
S2089: "parse2"
S2090: "buffer3"
S2091: "oops_workspace"
S2092: "PowersOfTwo_TB"
S2093: "LanguagePronouns"
S2094: "LanguageDescriptors"
S2095: "LanguageNumbers"
S2096: "LanguageArticles"
S2097: "LanguageGNAsToArticles"
S2098: "StorageForShortName"
S2099: "task_scores"
S2100: "task_done"

[End of text]

[End of file]