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 18: The woman reached into a box on the cupboard shelf and lifted something out.
The woman reached into a box on the cupboard shelf and lifted something out. Anya could see that it was two of the clay circles linked together by a small chain. The woman unclasped the chain and slipped off one of the circles. She hung it on the formerly bare hook and then closed the door. She refastened the small chain and walked back to Anya.
“We don’t use names here,” she told Anya. Please keep yours to yourself. “This number will identify your room and your place within this hall for the duration of your stay, however long that may be. If asked, you may show it to signify that you have a place within our walls. While I am certain you have many questions, I can see that you have had a long journey.” The woman handed Anya the clay disk in a chain and she took it. Inscribed on the disk was the number 132.
Anya blinked at the number. Surely it couldn’t mean that there were one hundred and thirty two women here. ‘The board didn’t seem to have that many hooks on it for one thing,’ she thought. ‘Maybe they just made up extra incase the clay rounds are lost.’ Anya suspected the little disks would be easily lost. She tightened her fingers around the disk, threading the chain around her fingers.
“Please take her to room forty eight,” the woman said to Anya’s companion.
“Yes matron,” the woman replied.
“Have a pleasant stay and we will see you when you are rested.”
“Thank you,” Anya replied again. She still wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was being given a place to sleep and no one was asking for her name or details.
‘Yet,’ she thought as she followed the first woman out of the matron’s office. Anya followed the other woman down the corridor and over to a nearby stair well. While a part of her worried about what this place was, there was laughter floating down the stairs and everyone seemed decently pleased with their stay. In fact the entire building had a festive air to it.
‘Maybe that is the event that is coming,’ Anya thought. ‘Maybe they have all gathered for a festival.’ It seemed plausible. Anya yawned and felt her jaw pop with it. While she walked through the night, she was beginning to suspect that with the prospect of sleep before her, the entire trip out here was beginning to take its toll.
The woman led her to a door branded with the numbers four and eight and she opened the door, leading Anya inside.
The room wasn’t large and it wasn’t opulent, but it was comfortable. There was a window that looked out onto the main street and let in both light and air. There were simple curtains hanging open to either side of the window. There was a small bed, suitable for one person and not for a large family and there was a small stand with a wash basin and pitcher next to it. On the wall were pegs for hanging clothing.
Ten til Midnight 