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 41: Even with that as a possibility, her fear faded under the curiosity.
Even with that as a possibility, her fear faded under the curiosity. She wondered what the man was up to. She thought it was something nefarious because she was hiding, but it could have been something less sinister.
‘He could be late coming back from the tavern,’ she thought. She thought of the shadow moving silently and swiftly. He didn’t have the movements of someone who spent the night delving too deeply into his cups. ‘Or a tryst then,’ she corrected.
Anya shrugged. It was unlikely that he really had anything to do with her. It was still a little too early to head down to the dining chamber to meet up with the others for a day of needlework and lacemaking, but as she was already dressed, Anya decided to take stock of her provisions. While she carried little but the extra food her guard gave her to last through his absence, Anya wanted to see how much remained of the provisions.
‘If nothing else that would give me an idea of when the guard meant to return.’ Anya straightened the bed clothes, pulling the top blanket straight and flat. She then took her pack and began pulling out the remainder of her food. Once she left the tower, Anya treated her rations sparingly, slimming them down to the smallest possible amount needed to sustain her rather than eat the portion the guard measured out for the day. Her hope was to get the rations to last her through her arrival in a new place and acceptance in a position to earn her own daily bread.
Now Anya portioned out the remainder of the food into the portions the guard arranged. She thought about what she consumed as she studied the remainder.
‘Five days maybe,’ she decided. ‘Possibly six.’
Anya stared at the rations for a moment. They were the sort that would keep for long periods of time so she had no fear that they would spoil. As Anya started returning the rations to the bag she thought about them. She and the guard ate more or less the same provender. While she didn’t expect a guardsman posted outside of a solitary tower cell to feast like a noble at a banquet, all of the food provided was the sort that the market sold to travelers.
While Tyrin was not large, it was a waystation of sorts. A place for merchants to stop and resupply between the larger cities where they sold the bulk of their wares. Much of the food that the guardsman ate, seemed like the foodstuffs sold to them; Filling but easily portable and not likely to spoil on a long journey.
‘There was nothing fresh,’ Anya realized. She supposed it shouldn’t be surprising as there seemed to be no new town built directly on top of the old. Anya put the last of her rations away and tucked her pack beneath the bd where it was hidden in shadows. With it and her clothing from Tyrin tucked away there was nothing to mark her as an outsider.
Anya turned to the book she pulled from the library the day before. She opened it to the front section to look at the maps. Her fingers traced the ruins of the town where she was kept.
Ten til Midnight 