Archive
Every game of the day, newest first.
September 2026
ANOTHER APPROACH
You are a small robot sealed in a tank of sand with one question for the outside world. Throw yourself at the walls until one of them answers.
THE NAME GOES ON
A judge said the name can't go on the building, so the board closed the building. You're the crane operator. The work order has one line on it.
NO STAIRS
The slide fired by accident and it does not go back. The stairs are not coming, and the entire delegation still has to get off this airplane.
TOP OFF
A gas nozzle you cannot hold, at a price you cannot afford, and it is still pumping. The price per gallon is the hose pressure — and the sign keeps ratcheting while you pour.
DOWNHILL FROM HERE
A homemade soapbox derby with no accelerator, one pedal marked PAUSE, and a gauge on the hood reading P(DOOM). The higher that needle climbs, the more upgrade crates the crowd throws onto the road.
NOT MY POLE
Florida gave you thirty days to strip every AI plate-reader off its state roads. You have a wrench, a truck, and one corner where the property line is four feet away.
SOMETHING HAS TO STRETCH
Run the last flattening press on earth. Squash the globe into a map for people who each want a different lie.
PERSONAL ITEM
Fit the whole holiday into the bag your fare includes. Win an argument with a zipper.
VIRTUALLY UNLIMITED
Below the waterline on day 286, the only honest instrument on the carrier is whether the head flushes.
DO YOU COPY
Alone in a river-gauge duty post above a Himalayan valley, you learn to trust the thresholds — until the morning the manual is wrong and the only honest instrument left is the silence moving downstream.
August 2026
THE BOOK LADY
Drive a book-stuffed mail truck down a waking Appalachian valley at dawn — every mailbox gets a book, no exceptions, and the score is what leaves your hands.
THEN THE WALL
They ran 9.39 and then they hit the wall. Beat the clock. Stay standing.
GO NOW
The fire gives you thirty minutes and tells you what your life was worth.
DOLLAR FOR DOLLAR
Two governments trade blows through one cross-river machine — you are the seam, and you keep the lights on as long as you can.
STAY DOWN
You're the jobber. You never throw a punch — you sell them, perfectly, until the only way to win is to lose on purpose.
BUILD, BABY, BUILD
You are the cloud: buy this game's own graphics settings with the water and power of a county that votes back.
Thirteen Meters
Do the forensic work that took investigators months — then wait the 933 days it took anyone to say the word "fired."
Still Light
A firefly's voice is regulated down to a single dim blink. Say what you can with what's left.