He walked through a parking lot surrounded by darkness. He had no memories, only the moment he lived in right here, right now. The yellow lines marking parking spaces were the only thing causing any kind of illumination. But what was the point of parking here, when there was nothing out here at all!

"Looking for something? Some kind of plan, perhaps?"

"Plan?" The gentleman called out in bewilderment. "Yeah, I just want to know what's going on here! I don't know where I am, I don't even know who I am! My only company in this parking lot of nothing is you, a cryptic voice! So yeah, what kind of plan is unfolding here?"

"Well I hate to disappoint, but there is no plan."

"No plan? That's crazy! Everything has a plan! There has to be a purpose to everything, even this creepy place!"

"Not when Pen To The Paper is involved. Anything can go in this story. However, time is up for today."

A yellow door popped out of the concrete of the parking lot, directly in front of the gentleman. The mysterious voice continued to call out to him from beyond the door.

"Go through this door, and a new adventure will begin once the new season of Pen To The Paper begins. Things will then continue to unfold without a plan. You may leave the readers with one piece of information though. You may not know anything about yourself, but without a plan you can get as creative as you wish. So friend, tell me.... no, not just me, tell us all your name!"

"Very well." The gentleman said as he opened the door and exited the dark parking lot of nothing. "Call me..... -"

To be continued....

"Crisan? So that's what you're calling yourself?"

"Yeah, I will go by Crisan from here on out." The gentleman that now had a name told the voice, the voice that had guided him here from the dark, empty parking lot. "That's ok with you I presume?"

"Sure, doesn't bother me." The voice replied. "Any reason you went with that name?"

"Just made it up, maybe a slight play on the word crisis, since this qualifies as one." Crisan answered. "I'm in a story where there's no plan to the plot, I have no idea who I am before all of this, my only comrade is a voice whose agenda I don't know either. Why, does Crisan mean something else?"

"I guess a Google search will determine that."

"Wait, you have access to Google?"

"I have access to a lot of things." The voice chuckled. "Ha ha ha ha, the name you chose is the same as a hair strengthening oil product!"

"Well, I seem to have some great hair, so I guess that's fine." Crisan said sheepishly. "Now the more important thing is finding out where I am, and what to do next. It looks like I'm in some kind of bedroom right now."

"Indeed." The voice said slightly mockingly, as Crisan's observation seemed fairly obvious.

"Well being in a random bedroom can mean a lot of things!" Crisan said with a slight annoyance at the voice's condescending tone. "That yellow door likely put me in some kind of suburban area. This room is furnished, which means someone probably lives here. And if that person is home, they probably won't be too pleased that a random dude is in their house. They probably won't believe that a random door from a strange parking lot sent me here. So the best action would be to get out of here, and see what the outside world looks like."

"I suppose you're right. Apologies for my rudeness."

"So wait, do you know more about this world?"

"I can only see what you see Crisan. This being a story without a plan, I know about as much as you."

"Ok, fine."

Crisan stepped off of the bed he found himself sitting on after going through the door from the dark parking lot. He observed a small TV on the dresser with an old school gaming system set up next to it. He was tempted to look at the games on the shelf nearby, but he ultimately decided that sticking around a random person's house looking at their stuff wouldn't be a great idea.

Crisan stepped through the bedroom door and found himself on an outdoor racetrack. In front of him sat a small go-cart.

"What kind of house is this?" Crisan asked incredulously. He went back and checked the door he had just come through, and sure enough, the bedroom was still there.

"Looks like you can play some video games in the room, or drive on that track in the go-cart. I know your memory is still shot, but does either activity stir anything up within?"

"Well, the gaming system is one I have played before, but I can't remember anything besides that. I don't remember ever driving a go-kart, but it seems oddly familar to me. As fun as it would be to hunker down to some games, I still don't know if the person who lives here is around, and it would appear that I have to navigate this race course to get out of here."

"Sounds about right Crisan, do what you feel is the right call."

Crisan hopped into the go-kart and checked for keys. Once he was in, the car started driving on its own. The go-kart navigated loop de loops, leaps over pits, and even drove past other carts on the course. Eventually Crisan's go-kart crossed over a black and white checkered finish line, and in front of him was a hardwood door. Crisan hopped out of the go-kart and opened the door. Beyond the door was a typical hallway that could be found in a small apartment. Crisan stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him. He looked around and observed a small kitchen, a couple more closed doors that could lead to other bedrooms, and a living room with an impressive bookshelf, a large screen TV, and several modern systems hooked up to it. Like the old school system from the bedroom, Crisan had fleeting memories of playing these systems too. He also recognized some of the books on the shelf.

"So, what are your thoughts on this room Crisan?"

"It looks like a nice apartment. I've actually read some of these books, and played some of those game systems. But I don't have any other context past that."

"Why don't you play some games or page through the books? Maybe it will stir up some more of your memories."

"Maybe, but I don't feel right being in someone else's apartment. The exit appears to be over there. I think it's time to see what it looks like outside."

"Are you certain? It could be more dangerous than taking your chances in this apartment."

"I'm certain. Although I am a little jealous. I would love to race on a go-kart track anytime I wanted to go to my bedroom."

Crisan headed for the door that would lead him out of the apartment, when he suddenly froze in fear. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him. Escape was too late.

To be continued....