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 82: The woman Marta made some comment, but the voices were too far distant for Anya to make out the words, they were simply mummers of voice.
The woman Marta made some comment, but the voices were too far distant for Anya to make out the words, they were simply mummers of voice. Anya waited for all sounds to fade. She leaned against the back of the door. Thoughts wheeled through her brain. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that there was an ulterior motive behind the hospitality here, but she still felt stung by it.
‘But it doesn’t sound too bad,’ she decided as she listened to the last of the sounds from the other side. ‘They at least sound like they are willing to offer me a choice.
The decision has to be hers.
Marta’s words floated back through her mind and brought comfort. She was not a prisoner here. They wanted her to stay but they would not force her. The thought calmed her somewhat.
‘And at least someone wants me,’ Anya thought remembering the new girl making sure the younger children were cared for. Hearing no more sounds from the other side of the door, Anya risked opening the small door to the study. She saw no one and quickly stepped from the room. Not wanting to be caught in the library, she closed the study door behind her and exited the library as quickly as possible.
There was no one in the hallway but she hurried to the stair case leading down wards, racing to her room as quickly and quietly as possible. There she used the remaining water to scrub the dust from her hands, face and skin, leaving herself pink from the cold water and slightly damp.
‘I look like I washed up,’ Anya thought.
She hurried from her room down to the dining hall. As she took the cup offered and made her way to her accustomed seat, she spotted the Matron watching her. The woman seemed to take in her damp hair and freshly scrubbed face. She smiled and Anya offered a small smile back before slipping into her accustomed seat. Her heart was beating fast but she hoped if anyone noticed it would be put down to her attempts at cleanliness before rushing to the mid-day meal.
As her heart rate slowed back to normal, Anya looked around. She was one of the last ones into the dining hall, most already having taken their seats before she arrived. There were a few behind her, but even they were settled at their seats now. There were far fewer women now than there were at breakfast.
‘I wonder if the robbed ones simply found them when they were ready instead of waiting until meal time.’ Anya still wasn’t certain of procedure. She thought people were only taken at meal times, but the numbers would indicate this was not so.
‘One more question I can’t ask at the moment,’ Anya thought. Of her two companions, the older woman looked content while the younger one was fidgety. When the three of them worked, the younger one could only manage to still her voice when she needed all of her attention focused on a difficult bit of stitchery. Once the need to focus ceased, her need to speak returned. Since her arrival the younger ones constant stream of chatter had been a presence throughout her days. Anya suspected that as she had not yet been chosen, and had no tasks before her, the younger woman was finding the continued silence difficult.
‘Only one more day,’ she thought in the younger woman’s direction as she sipped her drink. Anya wasn’t certain what the protocol for ending silence was but suspected that once the order for silence was lifted, the woman’s words would pop forth in a torrent.
Ten til Midnight 