The Lighted Window — a short interactive mystery
The guesthouse is empty. Yet a woman appears at its window every evening. Choose where to look and how to follow the mystery in this original short story with two endings.
Fiction
Original fiction. Your choices change the route through the mystery and the final scene. There is no score or correct answer: every path tells a complete story.
A second-floor window
Begin with “The only window”, then follow the link for your chosen action. Every path leads to an ending.
The only window
At twenty to nine, the woman behind the window raises a hand to her mouth. She lowers her head. Then she does it again.
You have the keys to the old Linden Guesthouse. An exhibition opens there tomorrow; tonight, you need to photograph the front for the programme. The rooms have been empty for years. Yet on the second floor a lamp lights a yellow curtain and the outline of a seated woman.
A note on the door reads: “Tests tonight. Please leave the power on until nine. Aline.” The projectionist was supposed to be setting something up downstairs.
The baker is closing his shop behind you.
“Her again. She was waiting yesterday, too.”
“Who?”
“The lady.”
He has no name to add. He looks up at the second floor once more, then pulls down his metal shutter.
Above you, the woman raises her hand. You hesitate to take the photograph: you would be framing an empty room with somebody in it.
The little tear
You wait for the gesture to end. A white triangle appears near her elbow, then vanishes. The woman raises a hand to her mouth and lowers her head. The triangle returns in the same place.
You count: eight seconds. Another eight. Even the curtain repeats its slight shiver.
The guesthouse door opens. A small white-haired woman comes out with a roll of sticky tape around her wrist.
“Can you see the tear?” she asks.
“I think what I can see is a film.”
“At last. I'm Aline. Come in, I'll show you.”
She takes you upstairs. Translucent paper covers the window from inside. A projector hums in the empty room. A reel waits in its box on the table.
The other side
The stairs smell of fresh paint. On the second floor, light spills under a partly open door. You knock. The woman repeats her gesture without answering.
“She won't hear you,” says a voice behind you.
A small white-haired woman approaches with a roll of sticky tape around her wrist. This is Aline, the projectionist.
She pushes the door open: no armchair, no bedside lamp. A projector shines onto translucent paper stretched across the window. The woman is an image, visible from the street. Inside the room, she appears the other way round.
“I kept eight seconds to adjust the light. Now the whole neighbourhood is inventing a life for her.”
A reel waits in its box on the table.
What the frame leaves out
The box is labelled “Aline — comedy test, 1978”. You look at Aline, then at the young face repeating its gesture on the window.
“Is that you?”
“I hope so. Otherwise somebody stole a very bad wig from me.”
The eight-second loop is a working copy. Aline removes it, puts on the complete reel and turns the projector towards the wall. At the window, the sides of the picture fell on the opaque wall. Here, everything is visible. A triangle is missing from the edge of the set's curtain: that was the little tear, if you noticed it.
The seated woman isn't crying. She's trying not to laugh. Beside her, a man wearing a saucepan attempts to bow without dropping its lid. The window had hidden him completely.
“My brother. We were rehearsing for an audition. I had to play a very dignified queen.”
On the wall, the queen gives up. She stands, snatches the saucepan and puts it on her own head. The picture shakes: her brother has knocked the camera's tripod.
“The baker says you're waiting for someone.”
Aline rewinds.
“I was waiting for him to be quiet. I waited long enough to miss the audition. We ate the pasta cold.”
She finds the saucepan, thoroughly dented, in a box of props.
“We need to choose what to show tomorrow. The whole film would fit on the big screen downstairs. Or you could film me here, now.”
The lady who waits
“Who is the woman?”
Aline raises a hand to her own mouth. The gesture is identical, but her eyes are already laughing.
“A queen. Well, me, trying to be one.”
She shows you the box: “Aline — comedy test, 1978”. To help her rehearse for an audition, her brother played an ambassador with a saucepan on his head. He lifted the lid to bow. She was supposed to remain majestic.
“People in the street think you're sad.”
“My brother would have been delighted. He was the tragic character: the saucepan was too small.”
The eight seconds are a looped copy for adjusting the projection. Aline puts on the complete film and projects it onto the wall. The sides of the picture had fallen on the opaque wall around the window. Here, the ambassador is visible too. The white triangle near her elbow is a tear in the set's curtain.
Now you see the young woman burst out laughing. She stands, takes the saucepan and puts it on. Her brother knocks the camera's tripod; the whole room seems to laugh with them.
They missed the audition and ate the pasta cold, Aline says. She takes the saucepan from a box, dented but recognisable.
“We have to decide about tomorrow. The big screen downstairs would let us show the whole film. Your camera also takes video. We could do a new take. This time I won't be cut in half.”
Ending: the second take
You put the camera on the table. Aline sits against the wall with the saucepan in her lap.
“Do you want the same gesture?”
You tell her to do whatever she likes.
She takes time to think. Then she puts the saucepan on her head. It still fits, crookedly. Aline stands, walks up to the camera and looks straight into the lens.
“This time I'm coming to the audition. But I'll be the one auditioning you.”
You laugh, your elbow bumps the table, and the frame tilts. She reaches out to straighten it.
You keep everything, including the hand.
The next day, the two films run one after the other downstairs. The baker recognises the queen before he recognises his customer.
“Did you get the part?” he asks.
Aline looks at you. You're still adjusting the camera.
“We'll see. I've kept the director on probation.”
Ending: the full width
You carry the projector downstairs. Aline carries the reel; you offered her the box of props, but she left that to you.
On the big screen, her brother finally fits beside the queen. You prepare a small card: “Comedy test. Aline and her brother. 1978.”
“Not ‘Failed audition’?” she asks.
“That isn't what we see.”
The next day, you stand beside the baker during the screening. He waits eight seconds. This time, after the gesture, the woman stands.
“Oh, she's leaving.”
Then he sees the saucepan. He laughs so loudly that Aline turns round at the back of the room.
Afterwards, he asks whether her brother ever learned to bow. She demonstrates with the actual lid, and two visitors duck to avoid a collision.
You go outside to photograph the building. The second-floor window is dark. Downstairs, the door is open, and you have to wait for Aline to stop laughing so that she will hold still in the frame.
After the story
You can start again and take a different route. Which detail changed your first impression? If you would like to, tell us using the feedback form below.