"In the small, dark hours of the morning, an earsplitting wail woke Percy and Annabeth.
Probably for the tenth time in the last two days, Percy wished he were deaf. Or perhaps, he thought deliriously in his dreamy, half-conscious state, perhaps I am deaf, and the ringing has become permanent in my ears. Oh gods, let that not be it. Please, let that not be it. But it definitely wasn’t a figment of his imagination, as Annabeth stirred next to him, face down in her pillow. He found this mildly astonishing, as it was the middle of July in all its glorious mugginess, and it was a small miracle that she hadn’t suffocated from heat. He wished he could sleep underwater. It would probably be cooler, but Annabeth did not think sleeping in the bathtub would be particularly comfortable or a good idea in general.
Whatever. Right now, it seemed like an excellent idea.
'It’s your turn,' she mumbled.
Those were the worst three words in the English language, he decided."
Yeah. So if you have a can of Coke right before bed, this is what happens at 2:30 am. On the plus side, I turned out an entire one-shot! On the other hand, I got three hours of sleep. I guess this is good, since I have to save my mojo for the novel during the day.
Have you ever gotten out of bed in the middle of the night to write a story? Or you can tell me the most absurd situation you were in when you got an idea. This should be good.