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 162: Was he the reason the old man was dead?
Was he the reason the old man was dead? The thought was hard to take. He didn’t want to be the cause of anyone’s death. He could almost justify Carson’s death as a ‘line of duty’ thing. After all he chose to become an agent and no doubt knew the risks. The old man was a different matter.
As hard as the thought was to take, it was even more difficult to shake. The thought continued to haunt him as he drove.
At the office, he parked and went inside. As usual, he was one of the first to arrive. He settled himself at the desk and began setting up his day. He turned on the computer and looked at the inbox for the files and paperwork that were dropped off. Many of their staff travelled and returned at odd hours. Several tended to find it easier to drop off their paperwork when they returned. James was certain that it was their attempt to not lose receipts.
There were several files, proving that many of his coworkers made it home safely. He would eed to deal with their travel reimbursement paperwork so they could be paid as soon as possible. As his computer warmed up, he opened his e-mail and took out a notebook so he could begin to make his checklist for the day.
As he worked, James allowed the details to fill him. The minutia of form 38-b was easier to contemplate than the weight of the old man’s death. It pushed guilt away and for a while he was able to think of nothing other than the tasks at hand.
Lunch time came and James joined the others for their mid-day meal. As usual, talk of weekend activities arose. James thought of the faux cable man.
“I actually moved this weekend,” James said.
“Really? Where?”
“A house on Cherrywood lane,” James said. It is really nice to be out of that apartment and to finally have my stuff out of storage. Admittedly most of it is still in boxes,” James confessed. A few details were asked and he found out that one of his coworkers actually lived three streets over in the same neighborhood.
‘I suppose that means Tucker chose an appropriate location,’ James thought. He listened to a little bit of neighborhood gossip and then followed along quietly as his neighborhood gossip spilled into gossip from other neighborhoods and the focus was shifted off of him.
“Don’t forget to change the address in your personnel file,” he was reminded as lunch ended and they all went back to work.”
“I completely forgot about that,” James said. Back in his office, he pulled up his file and changed his address. After saving it, James stared at his file for a while. His eyes scanned the document. All of the information was accurate, even if the details were altered. It was strange seeing himself sort of laid out like that. He was used to thinking of himself as just James, in charge of the family company. To see his particulars laid out, with no familial attachment was strange. James frowned.
Ten til Midnight 