Project Overview
A routine task. A personal consequence.
Lost Stamp is a narrative game about letter censorship, memory, and the consequences of controlling information. The player takes on the role of a wartime postal censor who receives a private letter from the fictional border town of Southbridge on October 16.
The player examines the envelope’s postmark, burn marks, sender’s address, and recipient information. Using the day’s review instructions and a regional map, they read the letter and identify references to locations, evacuation routes, possible code words, and conditions in the war zone.
Some details let the consequences of October 23rd intrude briefly into October 16th: a map with places crossed out, a file holding a detained letter, or a record of the recipient’s unknown whereabouts. I conceived these fragments as later outcomes entering the protagonist’s traumatic memory of this day, not premonitions.
I placed routine administrative tasks beside the possible loss of a private farewell. A letter can reach its recipient and still fail to convey what its sender wanted to say.
Starting Point
What remains when communication moves on?
The project began with neglected mailboxes and metal milk-delivery boxes outside homes in older residential neighbourhoods. Their edges were dusty and rusty; some nameplates had fallen off, while others had become difficult to read. The metal had yellowed over time, and some boxes had been painted over individually. Dust and fallen leaves accumulated around them, making these once-functional objects seem like part of the background.
I was interested in why they had become so easy to overlook. Had digital communication simply replaced their practical purpose, or had something less tangible also disappeared—the warmth of handwriting, the anticipation of a reply, and the relationships sustained through physical correspondence?
This led me to focus on transmission: not only how information travels, but what happens to its emotional meaning when it is delayed, altered, or never received.
Early Object Explorations
From physical traces to possible interactions
Before choosing mailboxes, I explored three other objects in my neighbourhood. For each, I moved from physical observation to questions about its history, then considered how those questions might become actions, spaces, and narrative mechanics.
A. Skateboard — observation and questions
A skateboard had been left near the lift entrance of a residential building, partly hidden behind shrubs. It appeared to have remained there for approximately three years. Its surface showed scratches, chipped paint, dust, and rust. One wheel was missing, and it did not seem to have been moved.
Why had it been left on a fire-service water pipe? Was the location simply easy to overlook? Had this once been a child’s favourite toy?
Interaction and narrative possibilities
Riding became the starting action. The board’s limited steering and its unusual resting place could become meaningful constraints rather than incidental defects. Players might steer towards different points of interest, using the skateboard to enter spaces associated with different periods.
Moving through these versions of the neighbourhood could reveal objects, people, and information from each era. Players would reconstruct the causes of a past event through the traces they encountered.
This also introduced a question about rebirth: if a discarded object gains a new purpose by helping someone explore the past, can reuse become a form of renewal?
B. Dinosaur Model — observation and questions
A dinosaur model had stood in the residential garden for as long as I could remember—at least twenty years. As children, we climbed onto its horns and back. In recent years, fewer children had come to play, and vegetation had begun covering the ground that had once been worn bare.
Its tail was badly damaged, exposing cavities in a stone-like internal structure. The surface was dusty, cracked, and peeling, with marks left by years of weather and friction from clothing. Although the model had not moved, its relationship with the people around it had changed.
Why had a childhood attraction become an overlooked decoration?
A memory anchor
I considered communication, interaction, transmission, and climbing as possible core actions. Climbing offered a particularly direct connection to the object’s original use: the player could revisit childhood through the same physical action.
The dinosaur could function as a memory anchor, remaining in place as people arrived, grew up, and eventually left. Its body might contain an independent space, with different stages of the climb corresponding to moments of growth.
Rather than reconstructing one event, this concept would revisit the joys, pain, setbacks, and farewells of different life stages. The object’s apparent permanence would contrast with the changing lives around it.
C. Facial Recognition Screen — observation and questions
A facial recognition screen at a residential entrance had only been used briefly before becoming damaged. Most of its surface was cracked, yet it remained unrepaired and had not been removed. Cards and stickers had accumulated on it.
The fractures suggested an impact. Why had its useful life been so short? What had happened to produce those cracks?
Recognition and reconstruction
Recognition and recording became the core actions. Although the screen could no longer perform its original role, its camera suggested the possibility of stored observations.
I imagined the cracks as divisions within a fragmented record, or even as entrances into spaces between memories. Players could use the device to identify objects or keywords, then reconnect records separated by the damage.
The narrative might be represented through writing, art, or the observer’s own records, allowing players to reconstruct what had happened from incomplete evidence.
Mailbox Research & Findings
Selection and field observation
I eventually chose the mailbox because it combined everyday familiarity with visible historical change. I believed that objects closest to us—or those we encounter most frequently—could provide strong starting points for storytelling.
The mailboxes I observed had extensive rust, peeling paint, missing nameplates, and lettering faded by weather. Uncollected letters had accumulated inside, with some protruding through the slots. The boxes appeared full, yet no one had come to empty them.
These traces made the mailbox interesting as both a functional object and a record of neglect. It still contained messages intended for someone, even as its role in everyday communication was disappearing.
Interviews
I interviewed people from my parents’ generation who had used mailboxes. They recalled receiving letters from friends and family, newspaper and magazine subscriptions, promotional materials, and informational leaflets.
Before electronic communication became widespread, letters were an important means of maintaining distant relationships. Some older people continue to use mailboxes in this way, preserving habits formed through earlier communication practices.
Archival research
Archival footage helped me examine how public mailboxes were being removed from streets. Research into the end of Denmark’s long-running letter-delivery service in December 2025 provided a wider example of this transition.
These cases connected the neglected boxes in my neighbourhood with a broader change in communication. The removal of a mailbox is also the removal of a physical place where people once sent their thoughts, waited for replies, and maintained relationships.
Research insight
At a personal level, letters carry information on the surface and emotions and ideas beneath it. At the level of collective memory, the disappearance of mailboxes marks a change in how a generation communicates and remembers.
Digital communication allows information to continue circulating, but the physical qualities of correspondence—handwriting, paper, postmarks, wear, and waiting—give it a different emotional character.
This led me to treat the letter as something whose meaning could be changed through handling. Receiving, inspecting, withholding, and altering it could become both gameplay actions and narrative decisions.
References & Design Connections
Papers, Please — inspection as a decision
The gameplay draws inspiration from Papers, Please, where document inspection becomes a series of decisions that affect people’s lives. I was interested in how a structured task could gradually expose the tension between official instructions and personal judgement.
In Lost Stamp, this becomes the examination and redaction of private letters. Players follow review requirements while encountering expressions of affection, possible code words, and information about places affected by war. The same passage may be both an item to inspect and something important to its recipient.
Il Postino: The Postman — passing on ideas
Il Postino: The Postman encouraged me to consider what correspondence carries beyond literal information. Poetry provides a medium through which Neruda’s ideas reach Mario, who later develops his own voice.
This suggested that communication can continue through the person who receives it. For my project, it raised the stakes of altering a letter: removing words may also interrupt the transmission of an idea, an emotion, or a way of understanding the world.
Dear You — waiting and emotional continuity
Dear You is included among the project’s film references on correspondence, alongside Il Postino.
Concept Development
Four directions
With mailboxes, letters, and transmission as the central themes, I developed four gameplay directions. Each explored a different relationship between physical objects, time, and the people connected through correspondence.
A. A family’s story through letter delivery
The player is a child listening to an elder, such as their grandfather, recount unusual events from the past. At different stages of his life, letters from unknown sources appeared on his desk without passing through the mailbox. Each came from a different sender and helped him make a decision at a turning point.
Later, he visited the senders and discovered that unforeseen circumstances should have prevented those letters from being delivered.
One day, the child finds and reads the letters. That night, an uncontrollable time-travel event takes the child and the letters decades into the past. The player must examine the surroundings to identify the period and decide which letter should be delivered at that moment.
The concept turns delivery into a way of participating in a family history the player has already heard.
B. An idle and management game
The player acts as a correspondence intermediary outside a small, self-contained world. This world occupies a large building resembling a communal mailbox or post office. Opening its compartments reveals small rooms, each representing a family.
The player collects what these families wish to send, selects suitable contents and postage, and may add special items such as wax seals or bookmarks. These materials are assembled into a new letter and delivered to another family that needs them.
The focus is on circulation: different households contribute information or objects, and the player organises their exchange into a continuing cycle.
C. Wartime letter sorting
Set in a twentieth-century border town or war zone, this concept follows a postal sorter who examines details in incoming letters to determine how they should be handled.
An address may be unclear, or the destination may be in an active war zone or territory that has already fallen. Such letters may need to be delayed, returned, or redirected.
The story develops through two parallel threads. One reconstructs the lives of senders and recipients through their correspondence, revealing betrayal, information leaks, arson, and other consequences of conflict. The other follows ordinary relationships: a family exchanging letters, unrequited affection, or a father writing to his child through the child’s teacher.
Alongside these stories, the protagonist must decide how to live under the pressures of war and survival.
D. An object passed through eras
This concept follows a single object passed down and repurposed across different eras, using its continuity to explore changes in letters and delivery methods.
I initially imagined a metal ring attached to a carrier pigeon’s leg to hold a message. It might later be melted down into a horse’s bit, then eventually become a clasp used by postal workers to secure bundles of letters.
The object would provide a consistent point of view across changing communication systems. However, its limited mobility made the idea lean towards cinematic storytelling. To create more interaction, I considered stealth mechanics that would allow it to move and explore when no one was watching.
Selection and refinement
In an informal survey of ten players around me, seven preferred the letter-sorting concept with two narrative threads, while three preferred the object passed down through different eras. I then continued developing the letter-sorting direction and focused the prototype on inspecting, redacting, and processing a private letter.
Earlier branch exploration: what each choice preserves
The early scheme considered releasing the letter intact, redacting and releasing it, holding it, and reporting it. The difference concerns more than delivery: which words survive, who bears the risk, and what a private farewell becomes.
Releasing it intact may preserve the farewell and private memories, while violating review requirements and risking the release of sensitive information. Redaction better meets the requirements, but the recipient may no longer understand the places, the key, or the farewell.
Holding the letter might be safer for the censor within the institution, but the delay could make it miss its recipient. Reporting it would turn a private farewell into material for the Security Department’s investigation. Developing the department’s subsequent actions is a next-stage direction for this early narrative branch.
I explored these branches before narrowing the playable sequence to redaction and a choice between release and submission for further review.
Earlier letter draft
In the early letter, a scarf, a hidden key and the final farewell give the censor’s decisions something personal to remove.
Elena,
If this letter can still find you, please don’t come back to Southbridge. The bridge behind the old mill has collapsed, and the station is no longer taking people in. Mother says you left in such a hurry. Your blue scarf is still on the back of the kitchen chair.
I buried the key under the third pine beside the well. If anyone asks, say we never saw that white bird.
Last night, the fire came from the east. The post-office clock stopped at six. Don’t wait for me.
— Misha
Sketches & Spatial Planning
Giving each stage a place
The initial sketches organised the experience around inspection, reading, processing, and dispatch. Rather than placing every function at one desk, I distributed the tasks across the room.
The starting desk introduces the letter and review instructions. The wall map provides geographical context. The central workbench contains the tools needed to act on that information, while a separate placement area marks the end of the review.
This arrangement turns movement into part of the task. Players collect information, carry it into the workspace, make a decision, and physically move the processed letter to its destination.
Gameplay & Interaction Design
01 / Starting position and orientation
The numbered player route begins at the map and daily briefing on the left wall (01), then continues to the instruction desk below it (02). The desk holds the day’s review notebook and incoming letter. Outline highlights identify the map, notebook, and letter as interactive objects.
Picking up the letter triggers a text/voice-over prompt: “This is the letter I need to review today. I should take it to the workbench.”
Hovering over key locations on the map provides descriptions, while reading the notebook confirms the review requirements.
The instructions do not settle the meaning
In the early design, the instructions require closer inspection of civilian letters from Southbridge. References to bridges, stations, warehouses, the old mill, or evacuation routes are to be redacted or reported. Letters with an unidentified sender or possible code words are to be held. The instructions also prohibit unauthorised changes to correspondence.
These directions provide surface rules for processing the letter, but private correspondence does not neatly separate sensitive information from personal life. The same place can be an evacuation route and somewhere two people remember together. The player has to make a judgement between readings that may both be possible.
02 / Moving to the workbench
The player carries the letter to the central workbench. It contains a pen for redaction, a stamp associated with completing the review, and a stack of newspapers. The letter, pen, stamp, and newspaper receive outline highlights, introducing the available actions before processing begins.
03 / The newspaper event
The newspaper initially displays the current day’s date and contents. Hovering over its date changes both, revealing a short report: “Letters held on [date] have all been cleared for delivery. However, the destination area has fallen, and the recipients cannot be located. The letters will be returned.”
Putting the newspaper down restores the current date. This is a one-time event; picking it up again does not repeat the change. The event introduces the possibility that information in the room does not belong to a single moment in time.
04 / Inspecting the envelope
The player examines the postmark, recipient, sender, address, and unusual marks, including signs of opening and resealing, burning, or water exposure.
A detection area attached to the player’s index finger triggers visual effects and text/voice-over when it overlaps with important information. This makes close inspection a physical action within the scene.
05 / Reading the letter and finding key passages
Press X to remove the letter from the envelope, and press X again to put it back.
I used highlights to show which passages the player could inspect or redact, including places, possible code words, events, and expressions of emotion. When the player points at a passage in the open letter, its trigger box detects the overlap and reveals the corresponding highlight sprite.
The same words, two readings
I considered each keyword in two ways: what it might mean to the censor and what it might mean to the people writing and receiving the letter. Removing a place name might erase a shared memory; removing a suspicious arrangement might change a farewell. I wanted the act of covering words to leave a question about what the recipient would still understand.
The same words, two readings
Private meaning: The recipient’s hometown
Private meaning: A place in their shared memories
Private meaning: The sender may be unable to leave
Private meaning: A final clue left for the recipient
Private meaning: Possibly a private understanding or keepsake
Private meaning: A trace of disaster; a later voice draft also leaves open the possibility of a broken clock
Private meaning: The letter’s most important farewell
06 / Redacting information
A text/voice-over prompt indicates that the letter needs to be reviewed, guiding the player towards the pen. The player chooses which interactive passages to redact. When the pen tip overlaps with key information, pressing A makes the redaction layer fully opaque.
The important decision is attached to the act of writing over the letter: the player must choose the passage and carry out the alteration themselves.
07 / A vision triggered by emotional content
Redacting an emotional expression transforms the letter into a reply dated a few days later. Its sender was the original recipient and asks whether the blacked-out passages can be restored. The answer is: “They cannot be restored.”
A text/voice-over follows: “The letter arrived. Some words are gone.” When the sequence ends, the reply returns to the original letter. This is a one-time event.
The vision connects successful delivery with incomplete communication: a letter can reach its destination while losing something important along the way.
08 / A vision triggered by possible code words
Redacting “White Bird” or a similar possible code word transforms the letter into a review excerpt dated October 23: “'White Bird' has been flagged as a possible contact code. Related records are incomplete.”
After ten seconds, the letter returns to its original form. This is also a one-time event. The incomplete record preserves uncertainty about what the phrase means and how the review decision was justified.
09 / Stamping the envelope and completing the review
The player returns the letter to its envelope. A text/voice-over prompt indicates that the review requires a stamp and directs the player to place the letter in the designated area on the right side of the room.
When the stamp overlaps the envelope’s trigger box, the wax seal appears on the envelope. I used that immediate visual change to show that the stamping action registered.
The player can submit the letter for further review or clear it for delivery. Placing the processed letter in the designated area triggers the corresponding narrative outcome.
10 / Branch outcomes
SUBMIT FOR FURTHER REVIEW — The October 23 review record states that the letter was referred to the Security Department for a full review. It was eventually cleared, but the recipient had moved away and could not be located.
“The letter is still here. The person waiting for it is gone.”
CLEAR FOR DELIVERY — The delivery record confirms: “Elena Vick. Signed for.”
“Maybe she read it. That was enough.”
Player’s emotional journey
Text & Voice-Over Triggers
An inner voice tied to inspection
Text and voice-over are tied to the player’s actions: consulting the notebook, reading the map, approaching the workbench, and examining details on the envelope and letter. The lines establish the task, convey the censor’s anxiety, and suggest interpretations of the evidence.
The protagonist’s observations remain uncertain. A place may be an evacuation route; a private meeting point may be mistaken for a coded instruction. This uncertainty leaves the player to judge what deserves suspicion and what may simply belong to the sender’s personal life.
Narrative framing
OPENING — “You are in a remote border town during wartime. As the town’s postal censor, reviewing correspondence is part of your daily routine.”
AFTER DISPATCH — “The letter has been sent. Did you overlook something important? Perhaps someone’s chance of survival rests on a single decision you make.”
Interaction-triggered lines
“The notebook… let me check today’s review requirements. Hmm… civilian letters from Southbridge need closer inspection?”
“Southbridge is on the edge of the front line. It was drawn into the fighting yesterday. If these last letters contain dangerous clues… I could lose my head. I need to check them carefully.”
“All right, let’s get started. Looks like the envelope is already on the desk.”
“Misha… no surname for the sender? That’s not a good sign.”
“The wax seal doesn’t look right. It looks as though someone has opened it again.”
“Southbridge… a town in the war zone, and the recipient’s hometown.”
“This could be part of a route through the area.”
“Evacuation information… was the sender unable to leave?”
“…Could something be hidden there? I can’t tell whether it’s a clue or a private arrangement between the sender and the recipient.”
“That could be the time of the attack. Or perhaps the clock was simply broken.”
“…Just a farewell.”
Player Route & Spatial Prototype
Gameplay walkthrough — four numbered stations
I connected four stations through the room: 01 Map and briefing → 02 Review instructions and incoming letter → 03 Review workbench → 04 Dispatch. Each move carries the player from one part of the task to the next.
Map & Briefing
Check the sender’s and recipient’s locations on the map and read the daily briefing for key information.
Instructions & Incoming Letter
Read today’s review requirements and collect the incoming envelope before moving to the workbench.
Review Workbench
Inspect, redact, and stamp the letter. The newspapers at the upper left provide recent news and trigger a disruption in time.
Dispatch Area
Place the reviewed envelope in the designated dispatch area, ready to be mailed.
Connecting information, movement, and action
I built the room prototype in Unreal Engine to explore furniture scale, object placement, interaction distances, and lighting.
The route first establishes geographical context at the map, then introduces the review instructions and incoming letter at the desk. The player carries the letter to the central workbench and finally moves it to the dispatch area. Separating these stages gives each movement a purpose: gathering context, understanding the task, making a decision, and committing to its outcome.
The notebook and map establish rules and context. The newspaper introduces a disruption in time. The letter, pen, and stamp turn those ideas into physical choices.
While building the room, I also had to deal with obstacles to inspection: the desk’s collision area kept the player too far away, insufficient light hid details, and unstable physics could throw the letter out of reach.
Letter and prop assets
I used paper surfaces, wax seals and written instructions as details the player could inspect at close range. The information belongs to objects they handle: a mark on the envelope, writing on the paper, or a requirement in the notebook.
Playtest Findings & Improvements
Missing textures
I restored the missing textures so the workbench and props display their materials.
Overly dark lighting
I adjusted the lighting so the workbench and interactive objects no longer disappear into the dark.
Light leakage through the floor
I fixed the light leaking through the floor.
Letters bouncing away on impact
I fixed the letter’s abnormal bounce after it hit the floor, keeping it within reach.
Oversized desk collision
I reduced the desk’s collision area so the player can approach the objects they need to inspect.
Inconsistent letter scale
I kept the letter’s scale consistent when it is taken out and put back into the envelope.
Floating books
I corrected the floating book’s placement so it rests on the desk.
Feedback during inspection
I linked outline highlights to inspectable objects and used audio cues to call attention to details on the envelope. The Blueprint below shows how the prototype checks for the player and plays the corresponding cue.