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 97: ‘Probably less cheerleader car washes for one,’ she thought.
‘Probably less cheerleader car washes for one,’ she thought. Lunch passed pleasantly and at the end of it she and her grandmother finished, paid and left. Gwen saw her grandmother’s shoulders stiffen as they passed the same table. Jenny and her friends were still seated and enjoying their leisurely lunch. Most of the plates were cleared but a new round of cocktails had just been placed down by the waiter.
Margaret waved as Jenny called out, but this time Jenny didn’t feel the need to walk over and they were able to make their escape quickly. Sebastian was already waiting with the car and they climbed in. Margaret relaxed against the seat, losing the tension.
“I was worried they would either ask use to join them or decide that joining us at the gallery was a good idea,” Margaret said. “I know it is uncharitable of me but the last exhibit I went to with Jenny she talked the entire time. I still can’t remember any details of the exhibit but I know that Jenny does not approve of her husband’s admin.”
Gwen smiled. “I’ll be sure to not babble about…” Gwen thought of who she might know something about. “The people I run with in the mornings,” she finished.
Margaret smiled. “Thanks for that. Although I am sure you will meet much more interesting people once your classes start.”
“Then I’ll try not to babble about them during art exhibits either.”
The ride to the art gallery was not a long one and Sebastian seemed to know all sorts of shortcuts. Gwen lost track of how they got there as there were so many side street turns that she soon lost count. They pulled up to the exhibit and Margaret gave him an approximate time of departure as they left the vehicle.
The gallery was inside a large white box of a building. To Gwen the building looked a bit like those cube shaped pieces of gum that Toby loved. He always kept a container of them in one of the drink holders in his car. ‘Which is why there was never a place for my drink,’ Gwen thought. He always used the spare one for whatever drink he had on him and Gwen ended up holding her drink. She shook the thought off.
‘That is Lisa’s problem now.’ At the entrance thee was a sign reminding them to turn off the ringers on their cell phones so they wouldn’t disturb other patrons and Gwen dutifully complied. As she did she noticed there were three missed messages. She didn’t bother checking them as they were going in and reminded herself to look at them when they left the exhibit.
Margaret went to the counter and Gwen found out she was the recipient of the guest pass her grandmother’s membership entitled her too. As they entered the space Margaret looked at her.
“Shall we say two hours meet back in the lobby?” She said.
Gwen nodded. Margaret then went off one direction and Gwen chose another, more than happy to look at the art on her own. It always felt a little strange when she viewed art with other people. She liked looking at each piece and deciding how she felt about it and what she thought about it before seeing or hearing anyone else’s thoughts. She often didn’t read the cards beside the paintings until after she looked at it for a little while. Then of course sometimes the little card featuring the title or a statement from the artist changed what she thought about it and she saw it in a completely different light.
‘Its like getting two paintings for the price of one,’ she thought looking at the first of the pieces in the space. ‘I get what I think and then the artist’s take.’
Slowly Gwen made her way around the space. Several of the pieces she enjoyed, others she didn’t. She figured that was okay as she wasn’t meant to like everything.
Ten til Midnight 