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 141: “I’m sure we’ve already run a check on your mother, but if you decide you want to set her trap into motion I’ll start looking into where pastry chefs hang out.”
“I’m sure we’ve already run a check on your mother, but if you decide you want to set her trap into motion I’ll start looking into where pastry chefs hang out.”
“I appreciate the concern, but I think I’m good for a while. It isn’t as if the tins are going to go bad.” James looked at the decorative tin he held and shook his head. “Besides,” he added as he put it into one of the lower cabinets. “I haven’t had much luck meeting new people at the moment.”
“Now I wouldn’t say that,” Tucker said. “You met me and I’m plenty lucky.”
Before James could reply to that, the doorbell rang. James jumped.
“Pizza,” Tucker clarified, not mentioning the jump. “I’m sure it will be fabulous.” James nodded and even though Tucker moved casually towards the door, James could see him sliding his gun from its holster as he moved. The holster was tucked into the back of his jeans which is why James hadn’t noticed it. While the gun made a bit of a bulge in the back, it was hidden by his shirt.
‘And I don’t think I stood behind him today,’ James thought.
Tucker answered the door , keeping his gun hidden from view. When the man outside did prove to be a teenager bearing a pizza, Tucker slipped the gun back into its holster with practiced ease. He took the pie, signing the paperwork and providing a tip. The teenager left, and James relaxed a little as Tucker closed and locked the door.
“I hate this,” James said shaking his head. “Jumping whenever someone knocks at the door. At this rate I’ll be jumping at the paperboy and living in mortal fear of the milk man.”
“Well first off, I think milk men haven’t been around since the 1950s so if you do see one around, his is suspicious and you should be worried.” Tucker placed the pizza on the kitchen table. “Or you should question him about his journey from the past. Secondly, you haven’t signed up for the local paper, at least as far as I can tell so if you see someone throwing something at your house, you likewise have reason to worry.”
Tucker opened the pizza box and took out the first slice.
“Thanks,” James replied. “That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.” He walked over and picked up his own slice. Tucker grinned, took a bite, chewed and swallowed.
“Creating warm fuzzies isn’t in my job description,” Tucker replied.
“You don’t say?” James said. He bit into his own slice, realizing a he chewed how hungry he was.
“Look, you are just gun shy. A lot has happened in the past few weeks. It is natural to be jumping at shadows for a while. You’ll get over it soon.” Tucker shrugged. “Although you should have expected a while of jumping at shadows if you joined the program. What did you do, turn your boss in?”
“Not exactly,” James replied. He looked at Tucker. “You haven’t read my file?”
It was more of a statement than a question.
Ten til Midnight 