So was rolling out of bed -- literally; something in him had decided to overshoot the mark, landing him on his back on the floor with his blanket half-wrapped around him. Not that he could remember if it was normal, he decided, laying in that uncomfortable position for several minutes. Maybe he could just stay there and eventually his brain would sort itself out. That would be nice.
But nothing happened. So he - whoever this "he" might have been - decided to check the fairly uncomfortable his back had landed on rather abruptly. That was normal, too, he supposed. Waking up on things. He could start there and work his way forwards. He arched his back enough so that he could bend his arm and work his hand underneath it, grabbing the hard lump and pulling it out. It was a brass tube, he realized as he relaxed again. He brought one end closer for inspection, looking through it. Tube was normal? Check.
Except that he jumped (as much as he could, still sprawled on the ground) when someone started speaking to him through it. It startled him enough to drop it; when he brought it up to his eye again, a beleaguered-looking man in a half-buttoned shirt was staring back at him and talking. " -- for her. I do this willingly." Then it replayed. "This will be better for her. I do this willingly."
Okay, so whatever "this" was? It was normal, too. And there was obviously someone female he cared about enough to do whatever "this" was for. That was normal, he hoped, too. Right. He could figure this out.
Except that none of this made any sense still. He couldn't remember anything, and assuring himself that everything was normal wasn't quite working out like he had hoped it would. Sighing, he finally untangled himself from his blankets and groggily stepped towards the door. Maybe whoever "her" was would explain everything to him the moment he stepped outside.
Jack / Tyler Durden part 3/3
Waking up was normal, he guessed.
So was rolling out of bed -- literally; something in him had decided to overshoot the mark, landing him on his back on the floor with his blanket half-wrapped around him. Not that he could remember if it was normal, he decided, laying in that uncomfortable position for several minutes. Maybe he could just stay there and eventually his brain would sort itself out. That would be nice.
But nothing happened. So he - whoever this "he" might have been - decided to check the fairly uncomfortable his back had landed on rather abruptly. That was normal, too, he supposed. Waking up on things. He could start there and work his way forwards. He arched his back enough so that he could bend his arm and work his hand underneath it, grabbing the hard lump and pulling it out. It was a brass tube, he realized as he relaxed again. He brought one end closer for inspection, looking through it. Tube was normal? Check.
Except that he jumped (as much as he could, still sprawled on the ground) when someone started speaking to him through it. It startled him enough to drop it; when he brought it up to his eye again, a beleaguered-looking man in a half-buttoned shirt was staring back at him and talking. " -- for her. I do this willingly." Then it replayed. "This will be better for her. I do this willingly."
Okay, so whatever "this" was? It was normal, too. And there was obviously someone female he cared about enough to do whatever "this" was for. That was normal, he hoped, too. Right. He could figure this out.
Except that none of this made any sense still. He couldn't remember anything, and assuring himself that everything was normal wasn't quite working out like he had hoped it would. Sighing, he finally untangled himself from his blankets and groggily stepped towards the door. Maybe whoever "her" was would explain everything to him the moment he stepped outside.
Probably not.