Confitura: Fruit Jam

Drop, merge, make jam.

Confitura is a calm physics game in a glass jar. Slide your finger to aim, let go, and the fruit drops. It rolls, settles and nudges the others aside. When two of the same kind touch, they merge into the next one up: blueberry, raspberry, cherry, strawberry, plum, peach, orange, pomegranate, melon, watermelon. Two watermelons make a finished jar of jam, which goes up on the shelf and leaves room for more.

There is no timer. Nothing falls until you let go, so every drop is yours to think about. When the jar is full and a fruit pokes out of the mouth, the lid tries to close, and the café tells you how many grams of jam you made. One more?

The fruit is alive, quietly. Most of the time their eyes are closed, but now and then one pulls a face: squashed when another fruit lands on it, worried when it pokes out of the jar, delighted when it is born big, a big yawn if you stop to think. Two of a kind may even exchange glances across the jar. Every merge sends up a little flurry of leaves.

A best of the week sits next to your best ever, so there is always something within reach, even if your record is from months ago.

By day it is a sunny café counter; by night the café works the night shift. Confitura follows your phone's light or dark appearance, or you can pin either one from the title screen.

Confitura makes no sound: you feel every drop and every merge as a soft tap, so it happily keeps your music or podcast company.

How we sell things:

- One payment. You buy it once and it is yours. - A round price. Nothing ends in .99 to look smaller than it is. - No ads. Nothing interrupts you, nothing asks you to wait or watch. - No subscriptions, no accounts, no unlocks to buy. - No tracking. Confitura collects nothing and never opens a network connection.

English and Catalan, fully localised.

Sygnały wykrywalności