As the plunger on the needle sank, pumping liquid sunlight into my veins, the world around me exploded. The off-white walls of my room became alive with color, angry reds sparring around somber blues, while playful greens danced together. Inside my chest, my heart hammered as if it was trying to beat its way out through my ribcage, and its sound was like a powerful drum lending a primal rhythym to my existence. Objects on the floor changed from the debris of life into toys, bright and demanding of my attention. I ignored the toys and turned my gaze on the goddess lying next to me.
Alright, I have a story I'm working on, and since we have this growing community of creative types, I'd like to draw off of that.
Here's the story concept: What if you discovered that you could, at will, shift between alternate realities? The catch? You have no control over where you go. The story will center around realities relatively close to our own, rather than vastly different ones.