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 157: “And which one helped collaborate with Cassie on the book?”
“And which one helped collaborate with Cassie on the book?” James wondered if it mattered. The company passed. He was no longer its captain. Someone else took the helm. He felt more sadness at that than anything else, feeling as though he was mourning the passing of a loved one rather than looking at his own memorial.
James shook the thoughts away. He knew he was letting go. He understood that. But understanding and seeing were two different things.
James saw the section where loved ones were encouraged to leave remarks, condolences and share memories. With a feeling of trepidation, James clicked on the link. While he ignored the prompt to leave his own message, James scrolled through the posted words. As expected he saw many from business colleagues. Then left bare condolences in most cases,. Occasionally a personal touch such as, “we’ll really miss him at golf” was added.
“For the humanist touch.” James smiled, more amused than anything else. Most of those had corporate attachments. Michael from Harris and Jenkins, Lennard from Davenport, Inc. Sprinkled in occasionally were other names. His ex-wife Faith left several sentences saying how wonderful he was and how she would miss him. She also put a line in about how devoted he had been to her faithful dog and the memorial he established for it in the pet cemetery.
James wondered if she was going to be looking for donations for its upkeep in his name at a later date. “It certainly has the sound of a set up for a charitable fund.” He muttered to himself. He really hoped no one of his actual acquaintance would contribute. He saw that Faith hyphenated her name now, adding a dash and putting her new husbands name behind his.
James let it go and continued to scroll. Cassie wished him well on his new grand adventure, which he found amusing. There were other notes of the same ilk, most sounding as though they put him on an ocean going cruiser and were expecting holiday snaps when he returned. The word death was never mentioned.
To his surprise, there were messages from older friends. As he expected it to be a more corporate undertaking their notes surprised him. For the most part they kept things simple. Condolences stating he would be missed were the most common. Second were the regrets that they lost touch. Occasionally a small one line note would be added.
“I’ll always remember that crazy trip.”
“I’ll never forget Palermo.”
Each note brought memories to his mind. Memories that had nothing to do with the work he did for the company and reminded him of when he was just James. James the person and not James the corporate head. In the simple lines he saw the person he used to be. He felt emptions tangle messily inside of him. In all honesty he couldn’t put a name to what he was feeling. It seemed too strangely tangled to be defined.
“This is why people don’t attend their own funerals,” James decided. As he continued to scroll, James found a message that caught his eye. It didn’t seem to fit with any of the corporate or friend notices. It looked like something else entirely.
Ten til Midnight 