First Chapter, First Paragraph – Misery by Stephen King

umber whunnnn yerrrnnn umber whunnnn fayunnnn These sounds: even in the haze.

But sometimes the sounds—like the pain—faded, and then there was only the haze. He remembered darkness: solid darkness had come before the haze. Did that mean he was making progress? Let there be light (even of the hazy variety), and the light was good, and so on and so on? Had those sounds existed in the darkness? He didn’t know the answers to any of these questions. Did it make sense to ask them? He didn’t know the answer to that one, either.