I'm going to try something new. Just for kicks. Since I can't come up with any original ideas that I'd care to put to page (I've been coming up with movie and game ideas more lately ><), maybe I could get you all to help. I'll respond in the story with whatever you want. Suggestions go in the comments, of course. If i get a few, I'll just choose myself. Or if you'd like, you can vote on other peoples' suggestions.
Basically, this is for you guys. I'm just the shell of the core, and you guys have the keyboard. So now I begin.
He woke up to the ringing of his alarm. The buzzing reverberated through the room, bouncing of the walls resonating only the worst frequencies. Every morning he woke up to this. You'd think he would have just chucked it and bought a new one, but alas, laziness wins another battle.
Opening his eyes had never seemed so hard before. The nights activities had rendered him a vegetable, at least for now. Sleep paralysis clung to him like the sticky part of duct-tape that just never seems to wash off, and yet the ringing continued, plaguing him and his poor eardrums.
Finally, he mustered the strength to arise and slam one determined fist down onto the clock, silencing it, for now. 'Meehhhh,' was where he was, mentally, and the ten minutes of snooze-induced silence was nothing short of a godsend. He reached for his glasses, first on the windowsill next to his bed, and then to the office chair immediately next to him. Finally, the desperate groping paid off as his fingers brushed against glass and he heard the metallic clink of the cold, folded arms momentarily touching. He unfolded them tenderly and slid the glasses onto his face and pushed the hair out of his eyes.
Its amazing what one can do out of habit, even deprived of the most basic of senses, and yet every morning, this blind ritual took place without a hitch. Sitting up on his bed, he rested his head in his hand and exhaled deeply. "Fuck," he muttered. He stayed like that for another few minutes and then reached the determination to grab his phone and check for any messages in the night. This, another daily ritual, was performed in the same manner as any other habitual trait: with a sense of laziness and monotony.
To his surprise, there were actually three messages he had missed. Two from Steven, and one from Her. Thats right. He groggily remembered what had transpired last night. The forgotten conversation suddenly seemed so clear and immediate to him. Then a pang of remorse, as he knew that he completely and totally messed up. He just stared at the unopened messages, fearful and apprehensive, until the silent pondering was broken by the intrusion of the alarm.
What happens next? What happened last night? Who is 'He'? Who is 'Her'?
Suggestions in the comment box, please!