The Fifteen Minute Novel is an attempt to take a single prompt and use the last sentence written each day as a start for the next day. This year I had several prompts circling around a similar story, so I have combined them. However, the story starts the same way each day, with the last line from the day before and a timer set for fifteen minutes. The hope is to end up with a complete, if very rough draft by the end of the year. Some stories are better than others, but I always learn a whole lot about my own writing when I do this so for me it is not only a nice way to work out a story, but it is a tool for helping my writing get better. And so, we continue this story for 2024 with…
Day 128: Linda’s eyes went wide.
Linda’s eyes went wide. “Well,” Linda said. Sophie couldn’t resist looking over her shoulder. Kristen was storing off to her car, door opened and then slammed shut. Ryan looked like a storm cloud as he marched to his vehicle. Bothe of them tore out of the parking lot, barely missing a collision as they left.
“For a moment it looked as though she was going to hit him,” Linda said. “I’m guessing that romance is over.”
“Guess so,” Sophie replied. Linda thanked her for letting her chat for the moment and moved off towards her own car. Sophie shook her head and slipped into her own vehicle. While she was certain the scene would be recounted on Monday morning, Sophie was just as glad it was over. She was far more interested in her swing project for the weekend than she was in Kristen and Ryan’s drama.
‘Maybe it is at least over and not likely to impact anything further,’ she thought as she drove home. ‘Once can only hope.’
Once back at her apartment she got out of the car, a bounce in her step. The night before, she made extra so that tonight she could quickly heat up leftovers taking less time for dinner before starting on her project. She set the food in the microwave to reheat as she went to quickly change out of her work clothes and into something comfortable. When the microwave dinged, Sophie ate far more quickly than she s used to, eager to get to work. She washed her dishes and her hands and when they were dry, she went to her sewing room. The patterns she created for the first item were already laid out as was the muslin she planned to use ass practice cloth.
Sophie turned on the radio and let it play while she worked. She hummed along as she pinned and traced, cut and stitched. By the time she was ready to head to bed, she had the first of the garments created in practice cloth. Knowing she was not objective when she first finished a piece, Sophie set it to the side and decided to review it in the morning.
She slept soundly and had dreams where her creations were shown on a runway. Sophie woke up amused at herself. She was willing to admit that once her life became less stressful and she expanded beyond simply what she could practically wear in her daily life, her designs became more than they had been. They were more creative and less bound to her daily activities, but they were still not the fanciful creations that wowed audiences at fashion shows. Her designs were still practically wearable in everyday life. They were just an expanded version of what life was.
‘A life now encompassing more than the office and sleepwear,’ she told herself. “Probably not runway worthy.”
As she ate a quick breakfast, Sophie realized that runway or not, she was excited about creating a collection of garments even if she was the only one who ever realized that’s what it was. ‘It makes me happy,” she said. “And my hobby should make me happy, no matter what anyone else thinks.”
Sophie finished up breakfast and hurried into her workroom to evaluate the previous days work and to see how she felt abut the garment that was becoming a reality. She held up the outfit studied the details, she fitted it onto her dressmaker’s dummy and studied it’s lines. Then she grabbed her wristlet of pins and began adjusting the fit.
Ten til Midnight 