“The invasive sound of the morning wake-up horn is almost as loud as the thunderous rush from inside the pipes hanging from the ceiling of my small cell, dimly lit with the flickering sunlight.
My peers are likely confused by this, as always, but I know that in those rusted metal tubes are hundreds of small pills, now rushing towards the bedsides of all us inmates. Right on time, the all-too familiar red capsule delicately drops from the pipe onto my medtray, the small noise it makes hardly indicative of its true impact.” ~TEMPO
TEMPO is a narrative WIP written in an interactive format that allows the reader to assume the role of the main character and make choices that may affect the story later on.
“I walk out into the courtyard. Looking around I can see that everybody else is doing the same. The surrounding crumbling buildings are composed of ancient, twisted metal beams, like dead, gnarled weeds gasping for sunlight amidst the sickly haze of the morning gloom.”
It has been a couple centuries after the third World War, and nuclear fallout has decimated the landscape. The human species has been afflicted with the curious condition of no longer being able to maintain long-term memories, forced to live in the present here-and-now. TEMPO is a drug administered daily to help citizens form memories, but it is soon discovered that the pills can be used to share and even plant memories in those that consume them. With a sinister big-brother government in the background, step into the shoes of a young woman who has a deadly secret: she remembers.
“I catch a glimpse of myself in a barrel filled with fetid, stagnant water; my pasty, grim reflection looks back at me sorrowfully. ‘I’m glad I’m not you,’ she seems to say.” ~TEMPO