The fifteen minute novel writing experiment is a attempt to write a complete (and very rough) draft of a novel by writing for fifteen minutes each day. I have taken a timed writing from one of the daily prompts done in 2021, cleaned it up a little and used it as my jumping off point into a story. Each day I will take the last line of the story written the day before and use it as my sentence starter and write for fifteen minutes, growing the story as the year progresses.
Day 17: She hooked an arm through Anya’s and pulled her forward towards the main entrance to the building.
She hooked an arm through Anya’s and pulled her forward towards the main entrance to the building. Anya smiled, pleased to follow along, at least for the moment. When the door opened and they stepped through, Anya found herself standing in a long corridor. Doors opened all along wither wall and there were women of varying ages moving in and out of all of them.
Anya’s host pulled her past all of the open doorways, but looking inside, Anya could see girls and women of almost every age chatting in pairs or small groups. Most seemed to have some small task in motion to occupy their hands. Sewing, knitting tatting lace. Some seemed to be mending things in a utilitarian sort of way while others were doing fancier work.
As they walked Anya wondered if she could find a way to phrase any of her questions without giving it away that she knew nothing of what was going on. At the moment she was having trouble thinking of much. Her body was tired and her brain was slow.
‘This does seem the perfect place to hide,’ Anya thought. Here she was just one female among many. If she kept her arm covered then nothing about her would stand out. Several in the rooms she passed had similar coloring and her clothing was not distinctive enough to stand out. There was a measure of peace in that, but the peace while soothing to her soul let her tiredness come to the forefront. Anya decided that for the moment it might be best to keep her mouth shut.
Her escort led her to the only closed door in the corridor. She knocked once and then opened the door. “Matron, we have a late arrival.”
A woman seated at a desk in the back of the room, looked up from the parchment she was reading. Balanced on her nose were a set of half-moon spectacles. Anya saw a set like that once, worn by one of the magistrates and knew they were expensive and rare. She slipped them off of her nose as she set the parchment down and placed the spectacles on a velvet lined stand to keep them safe from harm.
“Welcome,” She said to Anya. “We are pleased you have made it.”
“Thank you,” Anya replied. The older woman smiled at her, stood up from her desk and walked over to a cabinet. She opened the door to the cabinet and Anya saw he back of the door was lined with hooks. From most of the hooks there hung a fired clay circle inscribed with a number. A few of the hooks were empty. The woman studied the hooks and their numbers for a moment.
“Let’s see,” she said to herself as she studied them. “Ah yes here we are.” She tapped a hook without a number attached and Anya could see that on the wood of the door there were notations. The woman reached into a box on the cupboard shelf and lifted something out.
Ten til Midnight 