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 117: She moved to the door.
She moved to the door. The scents wafting in from the actual bakery were mouthwatering. However, as Gwen moved through the door they faded slightly. She doubted that they would go away completely but they were like a background note to the air.
She entered the classroom and found seven other people already waiting. They were sort of standing around desks as though waiting to be assigned seats. The look of them made Gwen relax a little bit. She wasn’t sure if she was joining an existing class and was dreading being the new girl, however all of these people looked like this was their first class as well. It made her feel better about the start.
Four of the people were her age and three were slightly older which also made her feel good about being here. Of the people her age, two were female and two were male. As Gwen approached, she smiled tentatively. She received smiles in return but before words could be exchanged their instructor swept in. He wore a large white apron that covered him from neck to knees. There were black pants and shoes sticking out of the bottom and short white short sleeves on his shirt. Gwen thought his hair might be dark, but a white bandana was tied tightly around his head and a fitted white cap was placed on top.
“This class is divided into two parts,” he said. Instruction and practical. We will start with the instruction and then move into the practical.” He opened his notebook and read out their names from a list. They each identified themselves as they were called. When he was satisfied everyone was here, he closed the notebook. He looked back up at them.
“Well, find tables so we can begin,” he said as he noticed they were all still standing around.
‘I guess seats aren’t assigned,’ Gwen thought as she made her way to a table. The tables were simple flat table tops and there were no chairs. Underneath were two ovens and an open space with a trach can lined with a shiny black bag. On either side of the room was equipment. The right hand seemed to contained bowls and hand tools while the left side had more machinery. At the back of the room there were large silver cabinets that looked like industrial fridges and freezers. At the front of the room was a work table identical to the ones each of them was now standing behind. Their teacher leaned on the table, his weight on his fists.
“As this is our first class, I am going to assume you know nothing,” He said. “We are going to start with the basics. The terms you will learn as they are used, but the actions you will learn by doing. We will start with a basic chocolate chip cookie recipe and see where you stand.”
Gwen nodded and took out her notebook.
Ten til Midnight 