Greg opened the doors to his apartment and threw his keys on the counter.
He wasn't necessarily a messy person. Being a scientist, he was instinctively neat, because he would be in a whole lot of trouble if he was disorganized. He wandered past his kitchen, kicking his shoes off and shuffling out of his outer clothes; and ended at his bed, where he promptly collapsed and instantly fell asleep before the sun could rise all the way.
Greg's eyes fluttered open. He saw a huge hole, a black hole, above him, slowly sucking everything in the room toward it, himself included. He was being sucked closer... and closer...
He awoke with a start and a gasp. He looked over at the clock, which read one o' clock, a pretty good record for sleeping for Greg.
He walked over to the mirror and noted the not-very-flattering reflection with a sarcastically whispered: "Nice."
Not really feeling like doing much, he threw on a tank top and some pants and headed out for a jog. He had been jogging a lot lately, he loved the way the desert sun felt on his skin.
He headed out the door and started to run, concentrating on nothing but his breathing and the rhythm of his feet beating the ground, which slowly pounded him into a hypnotic trance. Unlike other people, Greg found it easier to run if all he did was concentrate on his burning muscles, on his labored breath.
He made his usual two mile run and made it back in his room by two o'clock. He took a shower, watched some TV and headed back to work.
Another day, another time to fake a smile when in someone's presence. Another opportunity to see his own life through a fog, as if an out-of-body experience.
When it came time to head home again, Greg had to stay earlier into the morning, running a partial print through CODIS and waiting for DNA to be processed. Therefore, Greg was completely alone as he headed to his locker. Having been lulled into a sense of "automatic pilot" after the day's work, Greg wasn't expecting anything exciting as he opened his locker and put his jacket on. That was why he didn't notice the book until he tripped over it, spinning in midair in an attempt to keep his balance with a clumsy, impromptu ballet move.
A book was lying face down on the floor. Since Greg's locker was the only one open, it must had come from it. He looked around in a suspicious way and leaned over to read the cover.
It was nothing but a dark, attractive blue with a font on it that read "Nameless."
On the bottom, "By: Maree Aveno."
Greg knew this was purposefully here, because it was worn and tattered; it had been read before. He picked it up and pocketed it and walked to his car and drove home, already questioning the mysterious book.
He walked up to his room, threw his jacket on his bed and fell on his couch and opened it up to the first page, which was the dedication:
"Usually, authors dedicate their books to someone special in their lives that helped inspire and motivate them to write this book. Unfortunately, I don't know anyone like that. Bummer."
Greg smiled faintly, shifted to get more comfortable and continued on.
"The spiders were in my house the whole time!!"
"Well, sir, you don't really know that. . ."
"Yes, I do! There is a web in my barn!"
"...Well, a web is a good sign of an arachnid infestation..."
-From the movie "Arachnophobia" A/N If you ever have the opportunity to watch this movie... don't. Please.
