His fingers had been stained with [[ink]] that he wiped across you cheek as you kissed. His lips were always [[chapped]], his fingers always rough.\n\nHe carded them through you hair and whispered [[in your ear]], "Got something on your face…" His beard rubbed against your cheek and you [[laughed]].
You think about the way his scent still clings to your pillow and makes you dream of him. You think of the labels in the store, the constant memories of him in a place that should be yours. You think of the way he curled around you, hair tickling the back of your neck, and you wonder if he did the same with her.\n\nHe might come back for his notebook, that you save, but the memories are yours to toss in down the drain.\n\nInstead of making jam, you close shop early, and take a jar of apricot "Freedom" from the shelf. You need to remember what that's like.\n\n[[End|end credits]]
He was an artist. He called you an artist. He said you made jam out of dreams, made the tongue an instrument of memory.\n\nHe left you for a painter. There was emerald green behind his ear.\n\n<ul><li>[[in your ear]]</li>\n<li>[[laughed]]</li>\n<li>[[chapped]]</li></ul>\n<<set $your += 1>>\n<<if $your >= 4>>[[Wake up.|jam]]<<endif>>
The store you run is right downstairs. You barely need to move to get there. But it's 8:30, you're still in bed, and the store opens at nine.\n\nIt should open at nine, you've always opened at nine. Today shouldn't be any different.\n\nBut the right half of your bed is empty, and it's hard to want to wake up.\n\nStill, you crawl out of bed, in the shower, you toast some bread.\n\nThere's an open jar of orange "Right Side of the Bed" marmalade in the fridge. New, experimental, you made it just last week. You spread it on some toast, and take a [[bite]].\n<<set $first to 0>><<set $second to 0>><<set $your to 0>>
\n<h1>Utopian Jam</h1>\nby Astrid Dalmady\n\n\n<h2>[[PLAY]]</h2>\n\n<h2>[[CREDITS]]</h2>
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"You need to tell me the memory, really feel it, relive it. I'll turn it into jam."\n\n"That's all?"\n\nHeh. Like that was something small. "That's all."\n\nYou get an empty jar ready, hold out your hand. She takes it.\n\n[["Okay."|success]]
"He's away a lot?" I asked.\n\n"yeah. He was a comedian. I didn't think he was funny, but I'd heard all his jokes years ago, so shows what I knew. But he was always touring. He loved to make people laugh.\n\nMeant he was never at his place though. It was a mess. He'd stay there for a week, and not clean up at all. You'd think he'd get a bot or something, but he didn't care. He was happy like that."\n\n<ul><li>[[my brother]]</li>\n<li>[[by the water]]</li>\n<li>[[smells like ass]]</li>\n<li>[[video games]]</li></ul>\n<<set $second += 1>>\n<<if $second >= 3>>[[That's enough to make jam.|jakob end]]<<endif>>
The first customer of the day walks in at 9:15. You've only had a chance to clean up the front a little, to place the jam jars labels out in tidy little lines.\n\nShe walks in, the bell clinking above the door then shutting neatly behind her. She looks straight at you, hesitant to [[look around]], to seem out of place. A keycard hangs from her lapels. She hasn't slept in days.\n\nShe's definitely a first timer here. You smile, and try to look disarming. "Welcome to Utopian Jam. How can I help you?"\n\n"They say," she trails off. They say, they say, [[they say|what do they say]].
You shove the book between some recipe books, hidden enough so that it isn't glaring at you, but available in case he comes back for it.\n\nYou're not sure if you [[want him to|second]].
"Tell me about the apartment," I say.\n\n"It was small, bachelor sized. It wasn't a very popular neighborhood, but he loved the place anyway. We'd keep the screen door open so we could hear the birds calling as they roosted in the evening. And the water, the beach was a bit of a walk away, but you could still hear the waves.\n\nHe left me the place. I still have the key. I haven't been back."\n\n<ul><li>[[my brother]]</li>\n<li>[[barely spent any time there|away]]</li>\n<li>[[smells like ass]]</li>\n<li>[[video games]]</li></ul>\n<<set $second += 1>>\n<<if $second >= 3>>[[That's enough to make jam.|jakob end]]<<endif>>
<ul class= "memory"><li>Warm hands from a warm mug</li>\n\n<li>sunshine filtered through the curtains</li>\n\n<li>a stretch</li>\n\n<li>a laugh</li>\n\n<li>[[a sleepy kiss on the nose|awake]]</li></ul>
"Aren't you going to ask what happened to him?" he says.\n\n"Do you want to remember that?"\n\nHe shakes his head, hair flopping violently about.\n\n"Then I don't need to know."\n\nHe looks away as you put the jar of crystalline memories to the side. You're glad he's crying now, rather than while you were making the crystals. Tears can affect the taste of the jam in [[unpredictable ways|cling]].
"Do you work late a lot?" I ask.\n\n"Yeah," she says. Her hand grips mine tighter. "Solarium doesn't ask me to, but it just feels wrong to leave things unfinished. I have the ability to do these things, to finish this project, so why not spend my time on it.\n\nBesides, the coffee in the office is way better than the stuff I can synthesize at home. I don't know what my boss does, but she always gets it to taste amazing."\n\n<ul><li>[[the project]]</li>\n<li>[[frustrated]]</li>\n<li>[[coffee]]</li>\n<li>[[boss]]</li>\n<li>[[mess in front of me]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first += 1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
He leaves and what clings to you now is just a heaviness, thick and sticky. You take a deep breath to try and shake it off. The shop is quiet again; that doesn't help. You get started on his jam — a marmalade, a distraction. It's key lime: bitter and sour and perfect for grief.\n\nBut soon it just needs stirring. Hours pass by, and no one else comes, and the heaviness sticks with you. Your eyes fall on the label for "Smug Satisfaction". [[He|your jam]] drew that.
He used to make you laugh. All it took with a whispered comment, all salt and smirk and you'd be in stitches. You haven't laughed in weeks now, though he only left you yesterday. You wonder when that changed.\n\n<ul><li>[[in your ear]]</li>\n<li>[[ink]]</li>\n<li>[[chapped]]</li></ul>\n<<set $your += 1>>\n<<if $your >= 4>>[[Wake up.|jam]]<<endif>>
Utopian Jam
She looks around now. At the rows of pre-made jams on the wall. You know the flavors that catch people's attention: You got an A+, Hugs from a Friend, Warmth on a Cold Night.\n\nPeople don't come to Utopian Jam for raspberry, even though your raspberry jam is fantastic.\n\n"They say you can preserve memories…" Her fingers run over the label for Eureka!\n\n"That's right. I also make jam," You know she's not here for one of the premade flavors, and you can't decide if the work is welcome for the distraction or not.\n\n"I want to save something." She says. You figured. [["What do I need to do?"|jam process]]
"Sounds like this project was giving you trouble," I say.\n\n"It still is. Sometimes there are no easy solutions, you know. You just have to stick your nose to the grindstone, make lots of hot drinks and plow through that awful part where you don't have any clue what you're doing.\n\nI have to remember that. Remember that I <i>can</i> plow through that part. And that I don't have to do it alone." \n\n<ul><li>[[working late]]</li>\n<li>[[the project]]</li>\n<li>[[coffee]]</li>\n<li>[[boss]]</li>\n<li>[[mess in front of me]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first +=1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
"Okay, that's enough," you say and lift your hand from then jar. The woman looks down and smiles. The iridescent crystals of her memory, filtered through you, have collected at the bottom of the jar.\n\nThey could work just as they are, but poorly. They're much stronger when they're turned into jam. \n\nShe looks at it in awe, gears turning in her head.\n\n"How long?" She says, eyes hungry.\n\n"Tomorrow," you say. "Any fruit you prefer?"\n\n"…raspberry?" She says, as if she's' afraid of a wrong answer.\n\nYou just nod and write it on the label. Maybe a nice raspberry jam is just the thing you need to get your [[mind off things|making the jam]].
"Tell me about your coffee," I say.\n\nHer face scrunches up. "My coffee?"\n\n"Smells are important to memory, and coffee is a pretty strong scent."\n\n"I…well I guess that makes sense. It wasn't just the coffee though. It was the lemony smell of the cleaning bots passing late into the night. My boss's jasmine perfume. The weird woody smell of old-school charcoal as we sketched out designs on paper."\n\n"Perfect, that's perfect."\n\n<ul><li>[[working late]]</li>\n<li>[[the project]]</li>\n<li>[[frustrated]]</li>\n<li>[[boss]]</li>\n<li>[[mess in front of me]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first += 1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
"It smelled like.." I trailed off.\n\n"Ass, for real. First off, he never cleaned the place, so that didn't help, but second off he was right next to the mangroves. He liked to be close to nature, even if that nature smelled like rotten eggs.\n\nBut it was a great place, all new-utopian architecture, so you could live there on your own for days. Just rain water and sunshine. That's all he ever seemed to need. "\n\n<ul><li>[[my brother]]</li>\n<li>[[by the water]]</li>\n<li>[[barely spent any time there|away]]</li>\n<li>[[video games]]</li></ul>\n<<set $second += 1>>\n<<if $second >= 3>>[[That's enough to make jam.|jakob end]]<<endif>>
<h2 style="text-align:center;">Thank you for playing Utopian Jam</h2>\n\nUtopian Jam was written by Astrid Dalmady.\n\nYou can find me at:\n\n<ul><li><a href="http://astriddalmady.com" target="_blank">AstridDalmady.com</a></li>\n<li><a href="https://twitter.com/dastridly" target="_blank">Twitter</a></li>\n<li><a href="http://dastridly.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Tumblr</a></li></ul>\n\nOr You can help support future games on <a href="https://www.patreon.com/dastridly?ty=h" target="_blank">Patreon</a>\n\nA huge thank you to my editors and playtesters: Brendan, Melanie and Bruno, as well as to my <a href="https://www.patreon.com/dastridly?ty=h" target="_blank">Patreon</a> patrons: Adam Easterling, Ayuramy Alcala, Liza Daly, Michael Potter, Amy & Amone Linsamouth, Peter Vaughan, and Some Strange Circus.\n\n<<click "Back">><<script>>\nSave.autosave.delete();\njavascript:history.go(0);\nSugarCube.State.restart();<</script>><</click>>
He never took proper care of himself. His hair was always just slightly unkept. His lips were always chapped. You'd hand him water, hand him tea and scones and jam as he sketched.\n\nYou shared a jar of "Sleepy Laughter" in the evenings, with fresh baked bread and a bottle of wine. He always left crumbs in the sheets.\n\n<ul><li>[[in your ear]]</li>\n<li>[[laughed]]</li>\n<li>[[ink]]</li></ul>\n<<set $your += 1>>\n<<if $your >= 4>>[[Wake up.|jam]]<<endif>>
"Tell me about your boss," I say.\n\n"Oh she's amazing. You never met anyone as brilliant. She can be a little intimidating, because of how fast she is. She's a fast thinking, a fast talker and she can run away with things if you let her go too fast.\n\nBut give her a minute and she'll wait. She wants us all to succeed and she's never left me behind. She hired me personally, you know?"\n\nYou can almost taste the pride, bright and joyous.\n\n<ul><li>[[working late]]</li>\n<li>[[the project]]</li>\n<li>[[frustrated]]</li>\n<li>[[coffee]]</li>\n<li>[[mess in front of me]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first += 1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
"My name is Jakob. I want to remember the night I went over to stay at [[my brother]]'s place. He lived out of town, [[by the water]]. Well, that's where his apartment was anyway. He [[barely spent any time there|away]]. Not that I blamed him though, that apartment smelled like [[ass|smells like ass]].\n\nStill it didn't matter. We were just hanging out in his place, it was late and we were playing [[video games]]. Nothing important happened, but that's kind of the point. I want help remembering the bits that didn't feel as important."
He'd whisper poetry in your ear. Now, you realize it was never very good but before it was perfect. He sounded so sweet and sincere. You wonder if he said the same lines to her.\n\nDoes saccharine make jam as well as sugar? You don't think so, but he tried.\n<ul><li>[[ink]]</li>\n<li>[[laughed]]</li>\n<li>[[chapped]]</li></ul>\n<<set $your += 1>>\n<<if $your >= 4>>[[Wake up.|jam]]<<endif>>
You breathe in, and come back to now.\n\nThe memory preserved in that jam is faceless enough, anonymous enough, to work in lifting your spirits, if you don't think too hard. You manage to trudge down to your little shop downstairs and flip the sign to open right at nine o' clock.\n\n\n[[UTOPIAN JAM OPEN|open]]
"Tell me about your workplace," I say.\n\n"Oh, it's nothing special. I'm a bit old fashioned and I still like to use paper and pencil for a lot of the early stuff. Not calculations, of course, but for the design of the thing, the shape. I like the way my hand and my brain just kind of talk easier when I'm using paper.\n\nIt's messy though, and I know it's a bit of a cost, but well, nobody's perfect and it helps me help other people."\n\n<ul><li>[[working late]]</li>\n<li>[[the project]]</li>\n<li>[[frustrated]]</li>\n<li>[[coffee]]</li>\n<li>[[boss]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first+=1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
You put the book down, gently back where he left it. Maybe he'll come back for it.\n\nMaybe he'll [[come back for you|second]].
You hand found its way to an empty jar; it's not empty any more. The crystals of your own memory always shimmer slightly brighter. You feel lighter now that these memories are outside you.\n\nAnd contrary to what you'd hopped for Jakob, there are tear tracks on your face. Who knows what this jam will do. If you make it.\n\nIf.\n\n[[Make it.|make it]]\n[[Discard the Crystals.|toss it]]
"Start at the beginning," you say.\n\n"My name is Leah. I'm an engineer down at the Solarium. I was [[working late]]. I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and [[the project]] I'm working on they aren't quite working right. I remember being [[frustrated]], just jittery and angry that I can't get it. I must have had at least 5 cups of [[coffee]], which might not have helped.\n\nAnd then my [[boss]] walks in, just sits down, looks at the [[mess in front of me]] and says "Okay, we can do this." \n\nLike it's that easy.\n\nAnd we did. It's not finished, but we had a breakthrough. We did it. And I want to remember that, the feeling that I can actually get things done."
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Making jam is easy. Fruit, sugar, pectin. The addition of memories doesn't change any of that. The hardest part of making jam is waiting.\n\nShe leaves, and you head back into the kitchen. You think about what you'd name the jam, if you ever distilled the memories and made them generic, available on the walls.\n\n"Success"\n\n"Professional Company"\n\n"Like a Boss"\n\nHeh. Yeah. He used to come up with the names, but you're doing just fine without him. The names are just for fun really, the people who come here for custom jobs always know exactly what the memory means to them. They know what they want to [[keep]].
"What kind of games were you playing?" you asked.\n\n"Oh, some old vintage fantasy games. Computer tech was real glitchy back in the day and it could be hilarious. One time, that night, he managed to get a dragon to clip straight through a mountain. Just blasted it right into it, I…well I guess it was funnier if you were there."\n\n<ul><li>[[my brother]]</li>\n<li>[[by the water]]</li>\n<li>[[barely spent any time there|away]]</li>\n<li>[[smells like ass]]</li></ul>\n<<set $second += 1>>\n<<if $second >= 3>>[[That's enough to make jam.|jakob end]]<<endif>>
"What do they say?" You ask as gently as you can. Word of mouth is the best advertising, but it can come with pitfalls. People can get skittish, nervous about what you do, and what it asks of them.\n\nHaving the attention on her seems to bring her to life, she straightens, nods at a question you didn't ask and says, "They say you can preserve memories, feelings."\n\n"That's right. I also make jam," Part of you hopes she won't need the special services. It's tiring, and you have a lot on your mind, but most people just go to the grocery for ordinary jam.\n\n"I want to save something." She says. You figured. [["What do I need to do?"|jam process]]
You sell two jars of "Homecoming" and a jar of "The Cat has Chosen You to Sit On" before the next customer walks in. He's tall, lanky, absolutely covered in tattoos. One of them is fresh, and red, and raw.\n\n"They say," he says. They say. "They say you can keep memories alive."\n\nYou nod, but say, "Not forever."\n\nHe touches the edge of his scars and nods. "Not forever."\n\nYou take his hand and say, [["Start at the beginning."|grief]]
You don't decide what you get to keep. What residue sticks to you after you filter the memories. Right now, you're lucky. You set Leah's jam to start cooking, letting the smell of raspberries cut through the phantom smells that linger.\n\nCleaning up a little might help as well. There's smears of fruit on the counter tops. Empty jars that need sterilizing. A notebook that isn't [[yours]].
<h2 style="text-align:center;">Thank you for playing Utopian Jam</h2>\n\nUtopian Jam was written by Astrid Dalmady.\n\nYou can find me at:\n\n<ul><li><a href="http://astriddalmady.com" target="_blank">AstridDalmady.com</a></li>\n<li><a href="https://twitter.com/dastridly" target="_blank">Twitter</a></li>\n<li><a href="http://dastridly.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Tumblr</a></li></ul>\n\nOr You can help support future games on <a href="https://www.patreon.com/dastridly?ty=h" target="_blank">Patreon</a>\n\nA huge thank you to my editors and playtesters: Brendan, Melanie and Bruno, as well as to my <a href="https://www.patreon.com/dastridly?ty=h" target="_blank">Patreon</a> patrons: Adam Easterling, Ayuramy Alcala, Liza Daly, Michael Potter, Amy & Amone Linsamouth, Peter Vaughan, and Some Strange Circus.\n\n[[Back|Start]]
"Tell me about your project," I say.\n\nShe hesitates. "I…well I can't tell you much. It's confidential, and no offense, but it's some pretty deep tech stuff but the overview is that I'm working on nanomachines that can help heal bones."\n\n"Like broken bones?"\n\n"Yeah, and brittle bones, and arthritis and all sorts of stuff. It's pretty complicated, and it keeps me up all hours, but I really feel like we're doing something good, you know?"\n\n<ul><li>[[working late]]</li>\n<li>[[frustrated]]</li>\n<li>[[coffee]]</li>\n<li>[[boss]]</li>\n<li>[[mess in front of me]]</li></ul>\n<<set $first += 1>>\n<<if $first >= 3>>[[That's enough to make a jam.|done first]]<<endif>>
You think about the way his scent still clings to your pillow, and the way it helps you sleep. You think about the labels in the store that he helped make, your store that he helped build. You think about the late nights, his hair tickling the back of your neck as he held you, as you talked about your dreams about your desire to help the world, to make an already good world better.\n\nThose things are worth remembering.\n\nAnd so you set a pot of cherries, cut and pitted, on the stove, and pour the memories in. He might not be here anymore, but you can still have his favorite jam.\n\n Even if your tears turn the jam bitter. They are yours to savor.\n\n [[End|end credits]]
Astrid Dalmady
"Tell me about you brother," I say.\n\n"His name was Finn. He was…god, he was a pain in the ass, you know? Too loud, too in your face. One time, he broke into my phone and changed all my ringtones to fart noises. \n…he was fucking great."\n\n<ul><li>[[by the water]]</li>\n<li>[[barely spent any time there|away]]</li>\n<li>[[smells like ass]]</li>\n<li>[[video games]]</li></ul>\n<<set $second += 1>>\n<<if $second >= 3>>[[That's enough to make jam.|jakob end]]<<endif>>
You pick up the notebook, and let it fall open. It's mostly empty. He must have only just started it. The few pages that are used are full of bodiless hands, sketches of towels laying on counter tops, and the naked body of a woman that isn't you.\n\nHe never drew you with lines like those. You have no memories like that to savor.\n\n[[Put the book down.|put down]]\n[[Hide the book|hide]]