I'm not sure if I'll manage to remember it each week, but I'm definitely going to give it a good go. I come up with the titles first and then write a story to fit it, so they can sometimes be quite surreal. They will mostly be around 100-200 words, so even if I'm feeling really tired and lazy I should still be able to manage it every Friday. I think that setting myself the goal of writing at least one short story a week should be pretty doable and its something which I've been meaning to do for a while now.
I can't promise that they'll be lovely and happy, and I certainly can't promise that they'll be good, but I hope that you'll bravely put up with them and maybe even enjoy some of them.
You stand in a small clearing; birds chatter all around you but not a single one can be seen, as if they disappeared long ago and their songs are just an echo of what once was.
Tall, thin trees are rooted into the ground as far as the eye can see. They are as black as coal and wear not a single leaf on their spindly branches. Unlike the birds, the leaves can be seen. They now lay peacefully on the ground, blanketing it in a pattern of white and grey which makes your eye spin.
You spot a single spot of red jumping out at you from the monochrome ground and slowly bend to pick it up. Turning the glossy business card over in your hands you briefly wonder how it ended up here and who it belonged to. Surely birds, even vanishing ones, dont carry business cards.
Squinting at the black text you read one simple sentence:
'You are all that remains.'
A single tear rolls down your cheek as you realise that the birdsong has stopped.