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: 139: ‘It might give other delivery services the wrong impression.’
‘It might give other delivery services the wrong impression.’ It took a surprisingly short time for everyone to clear out. James expected it to take forever, the items police needed to deal with after a crime circling in his head.
‘But I guess they don’t need to take finger prints or crime scene photos or whatever else they do. Witness statements maybe. Unless that’s what Tucker is doing over pizza.’
With everyone else gone he and Tucker retreated into the house. After a short conversation regarding pizza toppings, an order was placed at the pizza place that delivered in his neighborhood.
“We have thirty minutes,” James told Tucker. He looked around at the still mostly packed up living room. I’d say have a seat and watch some television while we wait, but…” James let the thought trail off.
“We’ll arrange for a new cable installer. In fact a call should have been made to the company to explain the …”
“Waylaying of their employee?” James suggested.
“Yes,” Tucker agreed. “They should be sending someone else out. I suspect it will be soon.”
“Because they think I’ll give them a bad service review?” James asked.
Tucker smiled. “Because they’ll be curious.”
“I suppose their employees don’t get attacked very often,” James said.
“Probably not in this manner,” Tucker agreed. “Why don’t you go ahead and work on unpacking your kitchen, I’ll amuse myself and you won’t have to search for your coffee pot in the morning.”
James suspected that Tucker didn’t want to make half an hour’s worth of small talk with him any more than he did with Tucker. James nodded and retreated to the kitchen. As it was mostly open plan he could still see the agent as he opened and unpacked boxes. As James rediscovered silver wear and dishes, Tucker wandered the living room, studying the titles of his newly unpacked books. His inspection gave James a squidgy uncomfortable feeling as though he was being inspected.
‘They are just books,’ he reminded himself.
As Tucker seemed occupied, James turned his attention back to the various kitchen items. Most of them seemed familiar. His mother equipped the kitchen as Faith took the contents of the old kitchen in the divorce. James recognized the silverware and plates as he often put take out on the plates when he managed to eat at home. He always preferred silverware to the plastic utensils and tended to use his own rather than what came with the food. The items were familiar, but distant. They felt like relics of a place he visited and not things that were actually his. Still he put the utensils in the drawer and the plate, bowls and cups in the cabinets. As boxes were emptied, he flattened them and added them to the growing pile. One box he kept un-flattened. To this he added the excess packing material he unwrapped from around delicate items.
Ten til Midnight 