Once upon a time, five people received a letter from a dear friend, encouraging them to band together and make something based on a prompt, "Love Letter."

They decided to make it a love letter to the things that reminded them of people, memories, places, dreams dear to them. They built a tower, and left a prized possession of theirs in each floor. The tower would be a mausoleum, something to remember each of them by. In each precious item, they hid a black box with a recording of their voice.

Their blood, sweat, and tears saw the completion of the tower, and they were pleased with the work they had done. But over the years, the friendship they shared disintegrated. The tower was consigned to a fleeting moment in time, as it was erased from existence.

But in a little corner of a few people's hearts, the memories of the tower remain. They are, at the same time, fond memories and painful memories. One person, in particular, did not want their songs that wove the tower to be lost to the sands of time. They cried tears singing these songs, and they did not want their tears to be shed in vain. Singing them does not craft the tower anymore -- but these songs are here as a record of what once was. Incidentally, their black box recording also survives.

This is the first compilation, of hopefully a small series I like to call the Lost Game Jam Series -- compositions I have written for games that are either no longer playable, or that no longer exist. For this game, I improvised everything on the piano, adding instruments as people climbed higher.This game jam entry, submitted in September 2020 for the inaugural Miracle Jam, existed for a brief period on itch[dot]io before being taken down. These are the memories that remain. As a point of interest, I have drawn the artwork for this compilation myself, loosely based on, but barely referencing, what came before.