Untitled | Hood.txt

As I finished reading, I realized the room felt colder. I looked over at the chair where I’d tossed my own hoodie—the one I’d been wearing all day. The hood was pulled up, standing rigid and stiff, as if someone was sitting in it. But the sleeves were empty, draped lifelessly over the armrests.

I walked past the reflection in the store window. There was no one in the sweatshirt. Untitled Hood.txt

A piece for a specific indie game or ARG (Alternate Reality Game) that I might have missed? As I finished reading, I realized the room felt colder

I looked back at the screen. A new line had appeared at the bottom of the text file, the cursor blinking right after it: He’s reading it now. As I finished reading