Wednesday, July 11, 2012


Intimate is the night, abstract the street
without beginning or end the rain. And Adam would like
to forget and to forget himself,
cradled by the wind,
or to dissolve as a piece of salt in the water that falls and falls
whispering its ancient diluvian song.

LEOPOLDO MARECHAL, ADÁN BUENOSAYRES (sloppy translation/versification mine)
Finished another interactive short story, this one called Eioioio. Made also with Twine, though somehow different than my last one. It's about a girl having to survive alone in the deadly Buenos Aires '63 snowfall.