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 21: She stood up and crossed to the window.
She stood up and crossed to the window. Since leaving the tower, she had fallen into a routine. She woke with the first light strong enough to navigate the pathways, and ate as she began her day’s journey. She ate while she walked so as not to delay, fearful of anyone following.
Here, though there still could be someone following, Anya felt more confident that she might manage to evade capture. Here she was one among many and with the clothes she was given to change into, she would look just like the other’s here. Other than her birthmark there was little to mark he as different.
Despite not having to walk for the day, Any found her belly ready to be filled. She looked to her pack but decided to save her rations until she saw what was going on in the house. She didn’t know if there were customs or not that she needed to follow.
‘And I need to figure out why everyone is here and how long they are going to be waiting for whatever it is they are waiting for.’ Anya moved to the wash basin and used the water left over from the night before to bathe before slipping into the ne clothing she was offered. The garments were of good quality cloth, but they weren’t extravagant. They were solid and serviceable. The cut was slightly different from what she was used to, but not uncomfortable.
‘And looking different isn’t a bad thing,’ she reminded herself. She had a little trouble with the laces in the back of the dress but finally managed to get them fastened. Once dressed, Anya was relieved that the dress was modestly cut. The thought that this house perhaps gathered women on their own for sordid purposes flitted through her mind. Such stories had also been told by many of the merchants when talking of the dangers of the wide world. It had been a fear of Anya’s, but this dress was plain and serviceable and not something meant to draw the eye.
Feeling more confident in the clothing she unlocked her door and making sure the chain holding the clay circlet was slipped around her neck and tucked into the bodice of her dress. Deciding that trust was in order, Anya left he pack behind as she went to see if there was breakfast handy or if she would need to return to her own rations.
The scent of baking bread drew her on and Anya found herself moving down the stairs. There were others in the hallway, all women. Their ages varied but they all seemed modestly dressed and many offered friendly smiles. They were all moving towards the scent of the fresh bread so Anya followed. She flowed into a line with the others and received a warm mug of tea and a thick slice of bread liberally coated with butter and draped with honey. Anya took her platter and mug and followed the girls in front of her to an empty table. They didn’t seem to mind her joining them and she sat down with them.
One of the girls looked as her as she settled on the bench. She appeared to be a little younger than Anya. She tilted her head sideways a little as she studied Anya.
“You’re new,” she said.
“I am,” Anya replied. The girl nodded.
Ten til Midnight 