Here’s a brief sample from a beginning code form of Brimmer and Death in Chris Klimas’ Tweebox.

:: Single passage mode [script]
History.prototype.originalDisplay = History.prototype.display;

History.prototype.display = function (title, link, render)
{
if ((render != ‘quietly’) && (render != ‘offscreen’))
removeChildren($(‘passages’));

this.originalDisplay.apply(this, arguments);
};

:: StoryTitle
Brimmer and Death

:: Start
On the first evening of a two-day hike through the desert, Brimmer pushed through a stand of bushes and saw Dee seated on a flat-topped stone.

She said, “Hey. The moon’s just coming up.”

Brimmer said, “The sky’s still blue, Dee, but the land’s in shade. Beautiful, right? Time’s face.”

“You’re still a big mystery to me, Brimmer,” she said, hopping off the stone. She wore a black bandanna on her head. Silver rivets the size of nickels studded her belt, and she waved the heat away with a bone-handled fan.

She wrapped Brimmer in a wrestler’s hug and touched him lightly on the cheek with her lips. She set a small tape deck down and clicked play. She said, “A little ditty to take away your troubles.” Then she showed Brimmer [[an ancient dance|Loss]]. She circled him, fluttered her long white fingers. She took his hand and spun him in the sand. The moon’s white edge rose like a scythe blade over the hills.

:: Loss
“It’s been close to a century,” Brimmer said, as he crossed wood for a fire. “I’ve missed the look of you.”

“Has it been as long as that, Brimmer?” Dee said.

Brimmer smiled. He went to his rucksack for a cigarette. He offered one to Dee. She took it and went to puffing on it cold.

“They’re very rare these days,” Brimmer said. “I’ll get my hands on a pack every once in a while.”

“I hear your old country lost its government,” Dee said, crossing her legs. Her paleness blushed pink in the brightening fire.

“No one knows what they’re missing,” Brimmer said. “Democracy took to much muscle and nuance.”

After a few more text spaces, things are really going to get complicated, with two major splits in the narrative. It’s interesting to note that a set of html pages is an arbitrary collections of files, while a growing list of paragraphs in a text file can be a real bother. Now that I think of it, I haven’t written a full document in a standard word processor for a very long time. Unless exams and templated docs count.