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 26: He spotted something that while still in his range was a little less forgettable.
He spotted something that while still in his range was a little less forgettable. James sauntered over trying to look casual. In front of him was a 1952 Studebaker. It was a two door hard top.
“The Commander model,” he said to himself.
Although on closer inspection he could tell that it had been a long time since this car commanded anything. The original paint was long gone and the car was painted a flat gunmetal gray. While it looked awful James knew that in itself it wasn’t a bad sign.
‘Someone stripped off the old paint and got it primed before stopping work,’ he realized. As James walked around the car he saw patches that didn’t quite patch the rest of the car. He guessed that parts of the metal had been rusted out and someone did some repair work.
The repair work wasn’t the best and if he had his way he would take the car back to his garage, and fix the patch so that it was invisible to the naked eye. The patch was sloppy but the exterior of the car was still intact. James peered into the windows and say that someone fitted brand new seat covers over the existing seats. They were an unfortunate shade of electric blue with a giant yellow lightning bolt cutting across each one. The blue and yellow combination fairly seared itself into James’ brain. He backed away blinking.
“A beauty isn’t she?” he heard a man’s voice behind him. James turned to find that the lot did in fact have at least one sales man.
“It isn’t really what I was looking for,” James said, thinking of Agent Carson. While not an expensive toy, he doubted his agent would consider this car fitting in. “It certainly is …unusual,” he said.
James cast a silent apology in the direction of the car. He could practically feel it slump under his criticism. James felt a little like he was insulting a lost puppy.
“Well that it is,” the agent said. He started to open his mouth and James knew he was about to lead him towards what he thought James might be willing to buy.
“Does this even run?” James asked.
“Of course it runs,” the salesman said. “Every car on this lot is in fine working order.”
As James saw several cars towards the back of the lot that he doubted the statement could be applied to, he frowned at the man’s indignant tone. James let his eyes sweep towards what he suspected was the lemon zone of the lot before turning back to the salesman.
“Every car?” James replied, disbelief etched in every tone.
“Every car,” The salesman assured him.
“Really, then maybe you wouldn’t mind a test drive in this one,” James asked indicating the Studebaker.”
The salesman’s grin widened, recognizing the challenge. “Let me just get the keys.”
Ten til Midnight 