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 41: James spotted a sign marked business and decided to try investigating that aisle next.
James spotted a sign marked business and decided to try investigating that aisle next. James strolled past the other aisles. He took his time walking, but didn’t look at the signs above each of the rows of shelves now that he had a destination. The categories bothered him, but he couldn’t quite figure out why.
He slowed his pace and looked around. He found he liked this library. Even though he was certain he had never seen it before, it had a somewhat familiar feel to it.
‘Maybe if I could see the face of the man on the fountain I’d be able to identify the location,’ James thought. ‘Maybe then the signs would make sense.’
James made it to the edge of the section marked business and stopped. He looked up at the sign. The air vents blew fresh air across it and made the small sign sway in the artificially generated breeze. The word Business was stamped on the sign in big bold letters.
Oddly the letters reminded him of his grandfather’s type writer. It was a large Underwood and knowing that his hand writing was atrocious, he used it to write every memo and note that he sent, whether business or personal. It seemed impersonal to some, but James saw his grandfather type up the notes and every time he received one tucked inside the birthday card he pictured the old man.
He always sat in front of the typewriter looking like a pianist getting ready for a concert. His back was ram road straight but then he appeared to dive into the spirit, leaning forward, and hands flying over the keys. He only used his index finger to type. The others, he lifted out of the way. He typed with an intense flurry of movement and then leaned back in his seat as though exhausted upon completion. When he stood, the old man tugged his shirt and jacket straight and to James it always looked like a slight bow to the no doubt applauding audience.
James smiled and looked back down the aisle. He hadn’t actually thought of his grandfather in years. He was a warm, if faded memory. James stepped forward intending t see what books were grouped under the category of business. His head smacked on an invisible barrier and he blinked. James shook his head and stepped back a bit. He lifted a foot and moved it forward. His toe tapped on some sort of barrier. Every time it touched it made a blue imprint from the pressure of his foot, but otherwise it was invisible.
James leaned forward and ran his hands along the barrier. “I feel like a mime,” he said as he tried to find the edge of the invisible barrier. It ran along the entire section of the row marked business.
James kicked it. His kick made a dull low sound like a gong and reverberated around the room.
“There’s no need to make such a ruckus, boy,” James herd. He turned around and found his grandfather standing behind him.
A million thoughts crowded his brain. They clogged his mind and only one thought escaped to leave his mouth. “Why can’t I get through?”
“Because it’s not your place at the moment,” his grandfather said. “It might not be your place for a while.” His grandfather moved past him and stepped into the aisle. Apparently the barrier was meant only for James. His grandfather smiled and waved, then pulled a book from the shelf. James noticed it had the company logo on the cover. His grandfather took the book and walked deeper into the aisle becoming more indistinct with each step. He soon faded away to nothing.
Ten til Midnight 