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 98: She figured that was okay as she wasn’t meant to like everything.
She figured that was okay as she wasn’t meant to like everything. She doubted anyone liked all the art or all the artists they came across. It was nice to wander quietly and look at each of the pieces. It felt even better to get outside of her own head for a little bit. She liked studying the paintings and then thinking about what the artist felt about their work. It was much easier than thinking about what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
When Gwen thought about two hours passed, she glanced at her cell phone to check the time. She realized she was a few minutes over and dropped her phone back in the bag, hurrying back towards the lobby. When she arrived she found her grandmother chatting pleasantly with the docent behind the counter. Gwen was relieved she didn’t look rushed.
‘She also no longer looks annoyed at having to spend time with Jenny,’ Gwen thought. It seemed the art have soother her grandmother’s ruffled feathers.
“Did you enjoy the exhibit?” Margaret asked as she arrived.
“I did,” Gwen said.
“Good,” Margaret said. “I picked up some information for some art classes they conduct here in case you are interested.” She lifted a sheet of paper with typewritten info on it. It looked more like a schedule than a brochure. Gwen nodded as Margaret folded it and put it in her purse. “Sebastian should have arrived.”
Gwen again nodded and followed her grandmother out of the gallery and back out into the world. The quiet hush of the gallery was filled with everyday noises of traffic and people moving about in the world. Somehow even though there were other people moving through the gallery their sounds barely registered.
‘I suppose we were all being quiet,’ Gwen thought. She tried to think if she had been especially quiet in her movements but couldn’t recall much thought other than what she directed towards the paintings. ‘I don’t remember trying to be quiet,’ she thought. As they walked to the car she wondered if the quietly designed space simply made people subconsciously grow quieter the way a loud place made people feel more like they ought to be loud.
She shook the thought away as she climbed back into the car and Sebastian whisked them off towards the apartment. Traffic was heavier and so even though wasn’t as far to go, it took them longer to get back to the apartment. They wished Sebastian a good evening and hauled all of their previous purchases from the trunk and into the building. They made it to the living room where Margaret directed her to place them on the couch.
“We can sort them out there and divest everything of the excess packaging. We can also take the tags off clothing ans send the garments through the wash before you have to wear them,” Margaret said. “By the time we have things settled it should be time to order dinner.”
They looked at the bags on the couch. “I think they multiplied in the trunk,” Gwen said as she studied them. She couldn’t recall them buying that much.
“I suspect you are right,” Margaret said. “But they are here now.”
Margaret retrieved a pair of scissors from the kitchen. Gwen opened the first of the bags.
Ten til Midnight 