You take a peek out of the windows. Just outside, there’s a home garden with plenty of radishes and… more radishes? Whoever planted those loved radishes apparently. Further beyond it, there’s a mailbox, with the little flappy thing up. The flappy thing that says you got mail when it’s up, whatever that thing is called. The red flappy bit. You’ve got mail! You think. Is that your mailbox? Is this even your cabin?
You try the door, but find it locked. There doesn’t seem to be any locking mechanism on the inside, only a keyhole. Whoever designed this door obviously intended it to keep things inside instead of out. From the window, you try to shift your viewpoint in hopes the name will reveal itself from a different angle, but no dice. Even the windows themselves seem to be locked. You’re stuck, unable to escape from this cabin. You could even say that you’re cabin stuck.
Between this closed door and the startling attics, and needing coffee, I feel trapped and sick. I look for a key, a note, anything which could help me find the sense of all this.
Maybe there’s an orchard or a vegetable garden outside? I look out a window.
You take a peek out of the windows. Just outside, there’s a home garden with plenty of radishes and… more radishes? Whoever planted those loved radishes apparently. Further beyond it, there’s a mailbox, with the little flappy thing up. The flappy thing that says you got mail when it’s up, whatever that thing is called. The red flappy bit. You’ve got mail! You think. Is that your mailbox? Is this even your cabin?
I try to get our to look at the mailbox. Maybe there’s a name on it?
You try the door, but find it locked. There doesn’t seem to be any locking mechanism on the inside, only a keyhole. Whoever designed this door obviously intended it to keep things inside instead of out. From the window, you try to shift your viewpoint in hopes the name will reveal itself from a different angle, but no dice. Even the windows themselves seem to be locked. You’re stuck, unable to escape from this cabin. You could even say that you’re cabin stuck.
Between this closed door and the startling attics, and needing coffee, I feel trapped and sick. I look for a key, a note, anything which could help me find the sense of all this.