The following are some first lines from my fic. If you want to play, pick whichever one tickles your fancy, write a ficlet or a drabble with the same first line and leave it in my comments. (And if the muse strikes, I might even drabble back at you.) Feel free to take as many liberties as you wish.
Acts of Contrition - The walk back home is long, forged in a lumbering, unsteady gait.
Window-Dressing - The room buzzes with kinetic energy, vibrations conducting through the floor, jumping from body to body so that his chest pounds like he still has a pulse.
By A Thread - The smog is thick, air cracked and brittle with death and soot and unrivaled carnage.
Call it Closure - Clarity can be a beautiful thing.
The Heart of Her - The rhythms of her body were like a symphony to him, each pulsation and internal rush a carefully choreographed orchestration.
In the Knick of Time - Things were better; even she had to admit it.
All Wrong - No one had expected this, but then, nothing came as a surprise, either, considering everything they had seen and been through in their fight against evil.
Not Yours - It was like being doused in holy water, except the burning ate him from the inside out.
Show Me How - Fucking was like fighting.
Working Parts - Cool red satin slides against his palms, the buttery fabric pooling like blood in his black denim lap.
Unquenched - It’s the tail end that always gets to him, the only time she lets him near enough.
Beneath Us - The smell is what first shakes her from her horrified trance - burning, blistering flesh, incense, and the faint aroma of floor cleaner.
Out of Africa - The soft earth gave under his feet as he bounded after her, the thundering of her heart his homing beacon.
Learning Curve - Xander couldn’t help but grimace slightly at the pop Faith’s dislocated shoulder gave as she realigned it.