For the last few weeks I've been starting a new novel every working day of the week (I think I missed one day). I post this short beginnings of amateur literature in Twitter. The only rule is that they have to be exactly 140 characters long (Twitter maximum number of characters).
They tell the stories of different unnamed people (he, she, I, they) and they are not related with each other.

These are the first 35 entries (updated 27 May 09):

Chapter 1. She arrived home late last night, he was awake by a dream when she oppenend the bedroom door. She was wearing a beautiful dress.

Chapter 1. The girl at the coffee shop smiled and prepared the usual large latte and orange juice. No words were crossed. No word was needed

Chapter 1. For a man with such strong principles, "truth" wasn't a real issue for him. The spell must be protected from those little details

Chapter 1. She was upset for no particular reason. Particular reasons are manageable, the unanswered generic feelings are the difficult ones

Chapter 1. Her voice at the phone was broken by the effects of a nasty cold, her breathing let escape some echoes of pain and sweetness.....

Chapter 1. Factory made abstract paintings hang all around the furniture shop, he was drunk and surrounded by aspirational, hateful ugliness

Chapter 1. There was nothing she could do about it. She was part of a game that was bigger than her, a character defined by desires and fear

Chapter 1. The picture covered the most of wall, nothing on the painting existed but those days it became the only landscape of his reality

Chapter 1. I saw her at VATS drinking a long shot of something strong and red, dressed in black and with the liquid, deep eyes of a vampire.

Chapter 1. She pointed to the wrong man. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Life made an unexpected turn dragging all their lives.

Chapter 1. She stopped working for a minute, looked up and raised her hand to the first lacy rays of sun. Do you think we'll have a summer?

Chapter 1. He stopped listening, his mind was already filled with too many images and ideas. Quietness was unavailable there, a rare luxury.

Chapter 1. In his brain the electro-chemical reactions to beauty and sadness were closely connected. And he saw beauty and sadness everywere

Chapter 1. His room was empty, it had the white walls and concrete ceilings of an aseptic art gallery. Everyday started from a blank canvas.

Chapter 1. They kissed and said goodbye. He stayed smoking outside the terminal before taking the train back home. He was also traveling far

Chapter 1. They felt like falling in a bottomless well, acelerating hand by hand, together, strightly following the Universal Law of Gravity

Chapter 1. They sat at the bar and he had a shot of scotch before ordering the dinner. I am fucked, he said. You are just tired, she replied

Chapter 1. I lost her, he said. Memories of defeats exploded inside my brain, diluting the night and my will like a bath in corrosive acid.

Chapter 1. His behavior was observed, classified and measured on her virtual emotional grid. A complex equation to define the value of love.

Chapter 1. They were friends since they could remember. After the funeral two of them left in opposite directions, the third one stood there

Chapter 1. He was alone, sitting on his board exploring the horizon, cold, quiet, hypnotized by the moving parallel lines, invisible to all.

Chapter 1. They were waiting at the hotel lobby under fake flames made of fabric. And she walked in, looking like fake flames made of fire.

Chapter 1. She stared at his shaking hands: Dear maybe you are meant to be a smoker. You are not you anymore, you are like your evil brother

Chapter 1. He was trying hard, but it seems that destiny only have one face, a face beautiful enough to let himself go, to give up fighting.

Chapter 1. He stood inside the house looking off the window.The house was just a drawing and he was just thinking they were outside. Playing

Chapter 1. The slow, deep and thick sound of a guitar made her bones vibrate, then the bass reached her soul. She remembered her secret name

Chapert 1. She was dancing slowly inside a loose white blouse, looking at the floor of my room with her eyes half open. Careless, like a God

Chapter 1. She felt tired and burned. After a drink, she laugh of my stupid joke, then she realized she loved me. Her light was blinding me.

Chapter 1. Not one single second had passed since the last time they met, despite the winters, the summers, the victories and the defeats.

Chapter 1. They walked along the avenues, the water front, the parks, the back streets, looking everywere but to each other. No turist area.

Chapter 1. While she smiled to my exhausted eyes: "Do you want a simple life?". "No", I said. "In that case assume the price of your choice"

Chapter 1. He sat in front of a mirror in her living room wondering where all the reflected images of her past were stored. No rewind button

Chapter 1. The stones of the city are green & silver after the strong rain. My bones are cold, wet, it hurts. She is the air after the rain

Chapter 1. 11 minutes to the next train. She kept waiting at the terminal thinking on the old prophetic error that drove her there, praying

Chapter 1. He felt that his life was a collection of unconnected, fragmented memories and facts made to be written in 140 charaters maximum.

Chapter 1. She was attached to geography. Her identity changed with the many places where she lived. Leaving the furniture of memory behind.