Day I

Select a book at random in the room. Find a novel or short story, copy down the last sentence and use this line as the first line of your new story.

"Everyday of her life, every minute of her life, if she could just remember that."

A simple thing, that was. Remembering. It was also an easy enough task to do, remembering something. Our minds have exercise that daily by doing the little things; like taking a shower, drinking, taking out trash, or doing another mundane errands that are staples to everyday life.

In retrospect, that was a humdrum thing. It was an embodiment of something grandeur hidden in the midst of something plain. This humdrum, however normal it was, used to be able to make her earth spins, her sun blazes, her blood boils, and her eyes twinkle.

But the sound of that no longer tasted familiar on her lips. It felt foreign, like a scenic landscape from faraway place she once saw on someone's mantelpiece. Life has a way of robbing you the things that you used to hold dearly.

For example
the name of your lover,
pronounced with a sigh or a quiver.

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