Sugarcane

<<if $email eq true>>You think for a moment, staring straight ahead, and then begin methodically [[typing|part1]].<<else>>You stare at the blank page as your cursor blinks. [[Nothing|laptop]] comes to you.\n<<endif>>

[[<<display "image:email">>|email]] [[<<display "image:text">>|beginwriting]]

"We're closing in 10 minutes."\n<<timedcontinue 2s>>\nYou save your work and pack up your things. The couple sitting in the corner have left — their table has already been cleaned.\n<<timedcontinue 3s>>\n"G'night," the boy says, as you [[leave|outside]].

<<display "image:boys">>\n@@width:100%;display:block;text-align:center;[[One Dollar Per Page|quote]]@@@@width:100%;display:block;text-align:center;font-size:12pt;written by [[@glibsneer|http://twitter.com/glibsneer]]@@

You stare at your [[laptop|laptop]] screen. Time to get something done.

@@font-size:14pt;font-weight:bold;font-family:Share Tech Mono, sans;Hey,\n\nDo you want to meet for drinks sometime this week?\n\n-A@@\n\n@@font-size:20pt;[[←|email]]@@

@@font-size:14pt;font-weight:bold;font-family:Share Tech Mono, sans;Hey Sweetie,\n\nWhat day will you be coming home?\n\nLove,\nMom@@\n\n@@font-size:20pt;[[←|email]]@@

You set up shop at the small table with the comfortable chair. You boot your [[laptop|laptop]], open your [[notebook|notebook]], arrange two pens beside it, and put on your headphones.

"Freshen your coffee?" the boy from the counter asked, interrupting your work.\n\nWhy would he do such a thing, especially when he can see you have your headphones on? You slide your cup towards him, saying nothing.\n\nYou should keep [[writing|part2]].

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Writing at home these days is nearly <<insert "impossible.">> The neighbors make horrible noises from all sides and it's drafty. The landlord refuses to fix the radiator with any sense of haste.<<endinsert>> The coffeehouse may bleed you dry, but at least it's warm and has free [[WIFI|wifi]].

The rain has stopped. You look up and down the street and see no one. The sound of distant cars and wind float above your head.\n\n@@display:block;width:100%;text-align:center;font-size:24pt;The End@@

One Dollar Per Page

@@display:table-cell;font-size:14pt;font-family:Share Tech Mono, sans;vertical-align:middle;line-height:250%;<<if $email eq true>><<display "image:emailread">><<else>><<display "image:emailicon">><<endif>> [[Mail from J. E. Bark|newmail]]\n<<display "image:emailread">> [[Mail from Mom|oldmail1]]\n<<display "image:emailread">> [[Mail from A. Tillman|oldmail2]]@@\n\n@@font-size:20pt;[[←|laptop]]@@

Behind the counter is a young man with dark facial hair. He takes your drink order.\n\n"The wireless password is [[darkroast|table]]," he says, handing you the drink.

<<timedcontinue 1s>>"We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."\n<<timedcontinue 2s>>@@width:100%;display:block;text-align:right;— Anaïs Nin@@\n\n<<timedgoto "expo" 4s>>

They look about the same age, and young. She is stirring her coffee and he is staring out the window. The aroma inside the cafe begs you to get a [[drink|buy]].

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You flip to the most recent page.\n\n@@font-family:Over The Rainbow, serif;font-weight:800;color:#14396E;TO DO:\nClean kitchen ☐\nPack for holiday ☐\nCall mum ☐\nTake out garbage ☑@@\n\nYou're not as [[productive|bluescreen]] as you'd like today.\n

@@font-size:14pt;font-weight:bold;font-family:Share Tech Mono, sans;Hello my friend,\n\nYour anonymous benefactor is very pleased with your most recent work and humbly requests more material. They are offering the same rate as usual: one dollar per page. Please forward me your writings for editing, and I will manage the transaction.\n\nHappy Holidays,\nJ. E.@@\n<<set $email=true>>\n@@font-size:20pt;[[←|email]]@@

A sign on the wall reads:\n\n@@display:block;width:100%;text-align:center;WIFI ACCESS \nREQUIRES [[PURCHASE|buy]].@@

<<revision story>> "It was almost Christmas. Sam had just returned home from gift shopping. As usual, his father was the only person she was unable to find a gift for. Finding the balance between practical and thoughtful was difficult. He heard voices coming from the adjacent room as he hid the gifts in the closet.<<becomes>>In the hallway, he heard his brother's voice and someone else's. Sam peered into the room and found Leo, his brother, playing video games with Anthony - a friend from university. Leo and Anthony lived in the same dorm. Sam thought Leo was lucky because their parents let him live in the dormitory even though he could easily commute to classes from home.<<becomes>>Sam was 2 years younger than both boys, who were graduating in the Spring. He watched through the cracked door as they mashed buttons on their controllers and barked orders at their online comrades - laughing occasionally at someone's virtual and accidental suicide.<<becomes>>"I'm gonna go for a smoke," Leo said.\nSam hid behind the door as Leo went downstairs, and then outside. Anthony was still in the T.V. room, controller in hand.<<becomes>>Sam opened the door slightly and stepped into the room. He cast a dark shadow accross the wall, the only light coming from the television. Anthony looked up at Sam, but continued talking to his teammates, who may have been halfway around the world.<<becomes>>Anthony continued playing. Sam watched from the corner of the room. Sam found the tone of command in Anthony's voice every time he gave orders to his teammates to be quite sexy. He pretended to puruse the bookshelf full of DVD cases as slowly as possible, listening to the voices of the team.<<becomes>><<timedgoto "freshen" 0s>><<endrevision>>\n\n@@display:block;width:100%;text-align:right;<<revise story "Continue">>@@

<<revision story>>Sam eventually worked his way over to the couch. Sitting just close enough to Anthony as to be obvious, but not touching him. Anthony smiled as he continued to talk to his teammates. He was sitting forward on the edge of the couch. Sam was looking directly at the side of his face.<<becomes>>Anthony looked over at Sam.\n"Where's Leo then?" he asked.\nSam said he must still be outside smoking his cigarette. Sam put his fingers on Anthony's bare forearm. He was wearing a t-shirt at least one size too small.<<becomes>>Anthony made no gesture to indicate his approval, or disapproval, for that matter. Sam turned his body and sat on his legs, moving his hand slowly up and down Anthony's thin arm. Anthony dropped his controller on the couch between his legs and leaned back into the cushions.<<becomes>>Sam looked for any expression of pleasure on Anthony's face. Eventually he was greeted with a warm smile, eyes closed. Anthony wrapped his other arm around Sam's neck and pressed his lips right under Sam's ear, holding them there.<<becomes>>Sam could hear Leo's footsteps returning upstairs. For a moment, he hated himself for looking at the DVD case for so long. Anthony sit back and looked at him, his arm resting at his waist. Sam slid to the other side of the couch and faced the T.V.<<becomes>>"Hey, what are you doing? — Our team's about to lose!" Leo said in a raised voice, picking up his controller. Sam got up, locking eyes with Anthony for a split second before leaving the room.<<becomes>><<timedgoto "ending" 0s>><<endrevision>>\n\n@@display:block;width:100%;text-align:right;<<revise story "Continue">>@@

Christmas is one week away. A light but unexpected rain causes you to turn up the collar on your jacket as you duck into a nearby coffeehouse. The room is small with only a few tables. A [[man and woman|couple]] are sitting in the corner, huddled over their drinks. You spot a small table with a comfortable chair — a good [[writing|writing]] spot.

[[@glibsneer|http://twitter.com/glibsneer/]]