The Fifteen Minute Novel is a novel written fifteen minutes at a time with each week day’s section starting with the sentence from the previous day. At least it is attempting to be a novel. For now I am just aiming at one continuous story, worked on for fifteen minutes each day. Started Friday January 1st, 2021 (in case you want to search for the beginning. I can’t wait to see where it ends up. It could be good, or it could be a mess. We’ll have to see. For now, here is today’s fifteen minutes.
Day 11: It proved to be a bathroom.
It proved to be a bathroom. It was a plain bathroom. White tiled floor, painted white walls an white ceramic tub, white toilet and white sink. The white sink was set into a white pressboard cabinet box. It was laminated for water resistance.
The bathroom made him feel as though he was in some place institutional. As he drew in breath he caught the scent of paint. The white of the walls was freshly done. He wondered if they repainted for every new occupant or of something unfortunate happened to make repainting a necessity.
‘Probably best not to question it,’ James decided.
The few items remaining in his duffle bag were all toiletries. He fished them out of the bag and lined them up on the counter. Toothbrush in a plastic tube for travel, deodorant, electric razor with cord, toothpaste and a trio of items he swiped from the last motel, shampoo conditioner and a still wrapped bar of soap. All three smelled of dying flowers and reminded him more of a funeral home than the spring meadow pictured on the packaging. He was pretty sure the flowers would be insulted at being linked to such a scent.
“False advertising at the very least,” he added. As his bag was empty, he opened the cabinet under the sink and placed it inside. “At least it is clean.”
James left the bathroom closing the door on the white box and reminding himself that a shower curtain would be needed. He suspected the pressboard cabinet would have a hard enough time dealing with the random droplets from the sink when he brushed his teeth. He was certain it would warp and disintegrate if any shower spray was added to its burden. The lamination looked more hopeful than water resistant. Like a man watching a loosed lion approach and crossing his fingers that it wouldn’t attack.
The final door remained and as he listened to the soft chug of the washing machine, James opened the door to his would be bedroom.
“My sanctum sanctorum,” he said.
The room was not large, but it wasn’t as miniscule as he feared. The bed was queen sized and there was about a foot and a half of walk way to either side. There was also about three feet from the door to the end of the bed.
“So I won’t feel like I’m getting out of bed and sliding out of the door at the same time, that’s nice.” There were two small night stands to either side. One held a lamp and the other an alarm clock. The alarm clock blinked 12: 38 at him giving him at least some guess as to when it was plugged in. the bed was a bare mattress on top of a box spring with no head or foot board. The sheets were in a plastic pack, there was one hand towel, one wash cloth, one body towel, all lined up neatly on the bed. There was also a small plastic wrapped bod. Curious to see what it contained, James walked over and picked it up.
Ten til Midnight 