The Umbrella-Mender
Umbrella-mender“A one-eyed karakasa who was left in a shed for sixty years and would rather be useful than remembered.”
Strangers come down the road and knock. You decide who stays — and the town they build is yours to live with.
A tiny town at a crossroads. Travellers come down the road and some knock to ask if they can stay. You lay the ground — plots, paths, a lamp, a bridge — and decide who settles. Whoever you take in builds their own place, so the town ends up made of the people in it.
A traveller waits at the crossroads with what they want written on their card: near the crowd, away from the fire.
Plots are few and residents stay, so every yes is one fewer — and who you let in changes who turns up next.
Every plot says which of their wants it would answer, and which it wouldn't.
Each resident tells you, in their own words, how they find where they live.
Lamps, paths, a bridge over the ford, and whatever the residents build for themselves. Play a few minutes at a time; sign in and the town waits for you on any phone, exactly as you left it.

Eighteen of them so far, each with a trade, a few wants, and a past they'd rather explain themselves. A handful who might knock:
“A one-eyed karakasa who was left in a shed for sixty years and would rather be useful than remembered.”
“Their river was diverted for a mill three towns back, and they have been looking for water that stays put ever since.”
“She was a respectable woman until about eleven each night, and is still respectable at eleven.”
“They cannot be put out, which sounds better than it has turned out to be.”
“He sank one boat, regretted it immediately, and has been running hot water for strangers ever since.”
“She has kept four houses lucky and left each one the week before it burned.”





The Bell now lives on Jibbick. Sign in and your town is kept: open it on any phone and it's exactly where you left it. If two devices have been playing it apart, the game asks which town to keep instead of picking one behind your back.