<div id="parent">
<div id="passages"></div>
<div id="menu" data-passage="menu">
<!--Side menu, editable in the sidemenu passage-->
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</div>
<script>
// Close the dropdown menu if the user clicks outside of it
function myFunction() {
document.getElementById("myMenu").classList.toggle("show");
}
window.onclick = function(event) {
if (!event.target.matches('.dropbtn')) {
var dropdowns = document.getElementsByClassName("dropup-content");
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</script>/* Do not remove the div, Needed to make the title pretty */<div class="title">A Pot of Tea</div><h1>A Pot
of tea</h1>\
<<link [[Boil the kettle|01]]>><</link>>
<<link "Settings">><<run UI.settings()>><</link>><<include "StoryDisplayTitle">>
<<include "navigation">>
<<include "sidemenu">><div class="dropdown">
<a onclick="myFunction()" class="dropbtn">MENU</a>
<div id="myMenu" class="dropup-content">
<<link 'CREDITS'>>
<<popup "Credits" "Credits">>
<</link>>
<<link 'SAVES'>><<run UI.saves()>><</link>>
<<link 'SETTINGS'>><<run UI.settings()>><</link>>
<<link 'RESTART'>><<run UI.restart()>><</link>>
</div>
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/*You can also add whatever you want, it can also be links to passages rather than dialog boxes*/just imagine something cool and totally not annoying to code
Template created by manonamora ([[Tumblr|https://manonamora-if.tumblr.com/]]/[[Itch|https://manonamora.itch.io/]]) on Twine (v2.7.0)/Tweego with Sugarcube (v2.36.1)
Macros:
* [[Chapel: Dialog API|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2/]]
* [[Chapel: Notify Macro|https://github.com/ChapelR/custom-macros-for-sugarcube-2/blob/master/docs/notify-macro.md]]
Assets:
* [[GoogleFonts|https://fonts.google.com]]
* [[OpenDyslexic|https://opendyslexic.org]]
Other:
* [[Twinery.org|https://twinery.org/]]
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Sound Effects
* [[Freesound|https://freesound.org]]
<h5>You can find more templates by Manonamora [[here|https://manonamora.itch.io/twine-sugarcube-templates]].</h5>/*This page is currently hidden. Edit the Menu passage to make it appear!*/
<div> <<link '←'>><<run Engine.backward()>><</link>> | | <<if State.length === State.size>>→<<else>><<link '→'>><<run Engine.forward()>><</link>><</if>> </div><<audio "kettle01" play>>\
<<notify 3s>>
This game has sound<</notify>>\
I would say I'm content.
That's what everyone's saying, isn't it? When their kids grow up and ask if they're happy. 'I'm content,' a state of peaceful satisfaction. A more complicated answer than to just say 'yes', but then again, I don't suppose a child would know the meaning of 'content,' nor really understand it until they realise happiness isn't a constant, but rather something you seek... or if you're lucky, it comes to you.
It's what our dad always said.
"I'm content."
I think I know what he means, now.
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|02]]>><</button>></span><<audio "kettle01" unloop fadeout>>\
It's an early Thursday, it's hard to tell the difference between the weekdays now, all morphing into one- but Thursdays have that feeling. Though admittedly I would have preferred to have slept through the morning half of this particular Thursday, but early bird- aching headache...
You'll understand.
Cluster headaches, I'm half convinced they do it on purpose if I don't acknowledge them- try and play them off as though they'll just be another tension headache, or migraine if I'm kind enough- it's as though they're unionising. Doing a rather shite job about it, to be honest. Though it's not like I'd pull them up for an employee review, and comment about how they need to organise a better time for all the inconvenience they've caused. I'm not manager material.
And they're headaches.
Take a paracetamol and sit back for it to kick in, and if it doesn't, then I'll find a nice, dark corner for a while. Deal with it like usual. But, for now, we're in that waiting period, that in-between where it could just be a normal headache and I'd have a normal day, make a cup of tea, talk to you.
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|03]]>><</button>></span><<cacheaudio "kettle01" "music/500544__leo153__tea_kettle_gas_ignite.wav">>
<<cacheaudio "kettle02" "music/264475__aglinder__kettle-whistle-01.wav">>
<<set $gender to "none">>
<<set $person to "person">>
<<set $they to "they">>
<<set $them to "them">>
<<set $themself to "themself">>
<<set $their to "their">>
<<set $plural to false>>
<<set $es to "es">>
You.
Now, I thought I was content.
I have my own home, it's mine. It's nice, single bedroom, bathroom, and a little courtyard when I want to stare at the dying plants. Nothing too crazy, nothing too ostentatious. Something a person would be content with, and if you weren't me, maybe even happy. Maybe even looking at the perfectly adequate rotting wood fence that the previous owner tied a roll of that decorative bamboo fencing to and think "I could add a water feature."
Maybe even plant grass seeds into the dirt. I tried, and the shoots are only just starting to come through, though the summer was hotter than last years and I think most of them burned up during it, maybe I planted them at the wrong time or threw them onto the soil too shallow, or they just didn't want to grow.
I'll try again next season. Maybe plant the tomatoes I forgot about, the little seed packet still in the paper bag scrunched up and tucked away on the only shelf in that one-by-one shed.
But you, I remember you.
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|04]]>><</button>></span>
'You look like shite,' __''<<cycle "$they">>
<<option "he" "he">>
<<option "she" "she">>
<<option "they" "they">>
<</cycle>>''__ shift<<s>> slightly upon the wooden bar stool, looking at me as if expectant of something else, something more and something not me. 'Since when did we learn how to make tea?'
I frown at that, technically we still don't, not //good// tea, anyway. We got gifted a little pale, olive green teapot a few years back for one of those company Secret Santa's, where everything is chucked in a pile and everyone tries to find the heaviest thing.
It was a teapot. We even got a cosy for it.
It's not too bad, sans the fact that I've never been able to make a cup of tea and I've had to watch the same 2-minute 31-second YouTube video about how to brew a pot of it more times than I've actually made a damn pot of tea.
'You don't want any tea?'
'No, I'll have your stupid tea.'
I nod, I would have made enough for the both of us anyway. I touch the pot that sits on the ugly sea-green counter-top of the kitchen bench between us with the back of my hand, it feels warm, it's only the hot water from the tap to heat it up, but it seems like an important step.
'What tea did you want?'
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|05]]>><</button>></span><<if $they is "she">>\
<<set $them to "her", $themself to "herself", $their to "her", $person to "girl", $gender to "female", $plural to false>>\
<<elseif $they is "he">>\
<<set $them to "him", $themself to "himself", $their to "his", $person to "boy", $gender to "male", $plural to false>>\
<<elseif $they is "they">>\
<<set $them to "them", $themself to "themself", $their to "their", $person to "kid", $gender to "non-binary", $plural to true>>\
<</if>>\
<<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> look<<s>> at me as though I've just disappointed $them. <<print $their.toUpperFirst()>> whole face shifts as it scrunches up. Disgust.
'What happened to you?'
'To us?'
'No- you.'
'Same thing that will happen to you, I guess.' That is all I can really say, apart from 'You grew up.' But I don't say that, because it's the answer, and we already know the answer.
It doesn't help though as $they lean<<s>> back against the bar stool with a huff, I ignore the slight sound of a crack from the wood, as he gestures about the place, notably towards me and my olive green teapot. 'I'm not gonna let this happen to me- what? Just making tea and buying The Southern Star every morning?'
'We also fish.'
'Fuck you.'
'What tea did you want?'
It looks like the hardest decision <<if $they is "they">>\
they've\
<<else>>\
$they's\
<</if>> ever made before $they sigh<<s>> out an answer.
<div class="choice">[[Gold|06][$tea = "gold", $classic = false]]</div>
<div class="choice">[[Original|06][$tea = "original", $classic = false]]</div>
<div class="choice">[[Classic|06][$tea = "classic", $classic = true]]</div>/* custom widgets go in here */
<<widget "are">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>are<<case false>>is<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "were">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>were<<case false>>was<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "s">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "es">><<switch $plural>><<case true>><<case false>>es<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "re">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>re<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>
<<widget "ve">><<switch $plural>><<case true>>ve<<case false>>s<</switch>><</widget>>
<<set $variable = $variable.toUpperFirst()>>
'<<print $tea.toUpperFirst()>>.'
<<if $classic is false>>\
'Too bad, I've only got classic.'
<<elseif $classic is true>>\
'Good, it's the only one I've got.'
<</if>>\
I hear $them mutter something else and I can assume pretty accurately what it was with the scowl $they give me along with the pointed lip. I can't help but smirk back.
That was me. That was who I was. Some kid with all balls and bite from some town no one's ever heard of. Getting mad at my limited tea options.
'Where'd you come from?' I empty the water from the little olive green teapot, adding two teabags and an extra for the pot. Shoving the three in with their little string and tags hanging over the lip.
'Your mum.'
Something ticks inside of me and just as quickly that smirk fades. Fair game.
'//When// did you come from?'
The kid doesn't answer for a moment, a long moment. I turn back to $them- checking that $they hadn't fucked off already, but no, $they sit<<s>> there, eyes to the pale, olive green teapot for a while longer before answering.
<div class="choice">[[Funeral|funeral01]]</div>end for nowend for now<<audio "kettle02" play>>\
'The funeral.'
'Dad's?'
'Yeah.'
We fell asleep in the car on the ride back home. I don't remember much else from the memory apart from that hour and 45-minute drive of silence. Waking up at the end of it to an empty car in the dark car-port. We had one of those green LED lights stuck to the front of our childhood home. The house was at the end of a T-section, so it was supposed to help with visibility for people driving at night. It was the only light our mother left on.
'Wanna talk about it?'
<<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> <<if $they is "they">>\
don't\
<<else>>\
doesn't\
<</if>> look up from the teapot, though $their face scrunches up again at the thought of sharing that vulnerability with someone, or even just acknowledging it $themself. It wasn't something we were taught to do, I had to learn it.
'No.' <<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> grunt<<s>>, his hands digging into the old bomber jacket we had to leave in the car during the service, pulling out that familiar white and red packet. <<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> hit<<s>> out a cigarette, popping it between $their lips, biting onto the filter as $they search<<es>> $their pockets for the little scratched-up, steel Zippo lighter, pausing still as $they remember<<s>>- as I do- we left it there, watched it lower into the ground.
'Did you want to talk about dad?'
Another pause, another breath out. The kettles constant whistle a dull sound in the background.
'Yeah.'
<div class="choice">[[Pick up the kettle|funeral02]]</div><<audio "kettle02" unloop fadeout>>\
It's hard to talk about a man that I've lived longer without than with. But for $them it's only been a week. I never got that closure people do when they have a conversation with their father in their adulthood. Get an idea of if you were really just a disappointment or there was some underlying pride.
I just know he was content.
I pour the hot water into the teapot, slowly. It's starting to get familiar, a routine from day to day.
'Do you know if he cared?' The kid watches my actions, still averting $their eyes though $their forearms now rest upon the counter-top. The cigarette still bitten onto.
'No, I don't know.' I hum, placing the lid back onto the teapot and leaning back against the counter for the few minutes for the tea to steep. 'I know as much as you do, just got a bit more of an understanding of it over the years.'
<<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> <<if $they is "they">>\
don't\
<<else>>\
doesn't\
<</if>> like that, I wouldn't have either. It's not a proper answer, it's a maybe, it will always be a maybe.
'Do you think... he was proud of us?'
'Hard to say, but he loved us.'
There's a small, self-deprecating smile that tugs at $their lips, a dry amusement at the thought. 'How d'you figure?'
I shrug, moving to the cabinets to get two of the mugs, technically for coffee but I don't have anything else. The green matches the teapot.
'Harder to believe that he didn't.' It's not a good answer either, but again, it's all I've got.
<<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> sigh<<s>>, something exasperated as $their languid movement pulls them off the bar stool. Heavy steps trudging to the back sliding door and slamming it shut behind $them as $they step<<s>> outside. I can hear the shifting of metal against brick as the kid moves around one of the chairs before silence settles in.
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|funeral03]]>><</button>></span>
The headache's not too bad, not one of the usual. The sound isn't as piercing and the pain is dull enough to ignore. Just right behind the eyes.
I think my father loved me. I sure as hell wanted him to. I was desperate for that approval that an emotionally distant father could never give.
I was scared of him, terrified. Not because of his anger, but for the chance that I might cause it, then I would know he was disappointed, that I failed him. A few months before his death he had to pick me up from the side of the road two hours north of our town. I'd gone on a trip with a mate, just driving until we found something of interest, avoiding all the toll roads before the Foresters radiator busted and left us somewhere we didn't know. Mate had one of those Nokia 3210s and we had to walk another hour until we got to somewhere with the connection for a call. That was the only reason we had a clue of where we were.
That's what made him mad.
Took me aside, hand on my forearm and he didn't shout, he gritted what yellow teeth he had left.
//'You need to fucking figure out where you're going.'//
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|funeral04]]>><</button>></span>
I can't find the strainer.
I don't think I need one because of the teabags, but last time one of them ripped and I had to scoop up the leaves with a teaspoon, still didn't get all of them and the tea was horrid.
I'm sure it will be fine. It looks fine as I pour it into the mugs, a bit dark, maybe, but it's black tea, it's supposed to look something like that. Maybe.
<span class="next"><<button [[Next|funeral05]]>><</button>></span>
We both wince at the sound as I drag the little cheap table along the brick, carefully to not spill the tea on it. <<print $they.toUpperFirst()>>'d placed $themself next to the small brick half-wall that lined the boarder of the patio, up against the wall of the house, in the corner. A good spot for someone who didn't want to be here, and also where I smoked, ashtray and bic lighter still there along with $their crunched up cigarette, unlit and sitting in the tray upon the wall.
<<print $they.toUpperFirst()>> reach<<es>> over to the table, it doesn't matter which mug since they're both the same, but $they grab<<s>> the left one, always the left one.
I drag over the other mismatched chair of the set, sit down, take hold of my tea, watch my dying plants.
'Taste's like shite.'
<span class="next"><<button [[End|Start]]>><</button>></span>