Welcome to the Fifteen Minute Novel. Each morning I spend fifteen minutes writing on a singular story line. Each morning starts with the last line of the previous day. The goal is to get a (very) rough draft out of the simple story idea and to avoid letting the story idea languish in limbo forever, actually writing it out. This is the third year I have done this writing experiment and each year I learn just a little bit about myself and the way I write as well as creating a framework for the story. But without further ado…
Day 29: By the time she was done, it was time to start loading the car.
By the time she was done, it was time to start loading the car. Her father helped her load the bags into the car which she appreciated. While all of the suitcases had wheels and were easy to roll across flat surfaces, they were quite heavy. The bags went into the trunk and after she took a few minutes to check that nothing was forgotten, Gwen got into the passenger’s side of the car while her father slipped behind the wheel. Even though she knew nothing remained, she still felt like she left something behind.
The nearest airport was a good two hours’ drive away and after a few moments of silence, her father turned on the radio. It was set to a news talk show and Gwen tuned the voices out as they drove in silence. Like the dinner after graduation, Gwen couldn’t remember the last time she was in the car with her father, especially not alone. The last time she could remember driving anywhere in this car, Sharron kept up a constant stream of conversation during the short ride.
She thought they were going to some family event put on by her father’s office at the time. She dimly remembered being paired with a blonde boy who smelled like potato salad for the three legged race.
‘Fifth grade, maybe fourth,’ she decided. ‘There was some accident where he got most of the potato salad on him,’ she recalled. They hadn’t won the race, but they hadn’t come in last. When they were cut loose from each other they each went their own ways. She could remember nothing other than he was blonde and smelled of potato salad.
The potato salad incident reminded her of Ron throwing the contents of the punch bowl at Lisa. She hadn’t heard what happened after that as the story was interrupted. She hoped Ron didn’t get into too much trouble. ‘Surely extenuating circumstances have to cut him some slack.’
Eventually, they reached the airport. Her father parked instead of dropping her off at the terminal, and helped her again with her luggage. At the counter she checked in and they printed out her ticket. She checked all but her carry-on bag and then her father gave a brief hug.
“You will do just fine,” he told her. ‘Call if you need anything.” She promised she would and then he was gone, walking away as she got into line to be passed through security.
The security line moved slowly and in anticipation of the gate, Gwen slipped off her shoes and picked them up, walking the line in her socked feet. She was wearing no jewelry and her keys were in her carry on. There was nothing but her driver’s license in her back pocket. The rest of her wallet was in the carry on.
She made it through the security gate without setting off any alarms. Her bag was checked but harbored nothing currently banned from the airport. She was allowed to take it and her shoes from the conveyor belt. She slipped her shoes back on, feeling superior to those who chose footwear requiring the retying of laces, swung her bag to her shoulder and walked off towards her gate.
Along the way she spotted a water fountain and took the time to fill up the bottle before continuing to her gate. She was early enough to have her choice of seats, but not too early. She hoped they wouldn’t change the gate on her and double checked it against the paperwork.
Ten til Midnight 