For those just tuning in, this challenge is about taking a story idea from bare bones idea into a fully fledged story by writing consistently every week day for fifteen minutes. The sentence I end with on one day, is the sentence I start with on the following. Part one was Bob’s story and has nothing whatsoever to do with the story below. Part Two follows a character named Penelope. I have a few basic sentences to act as road marks on her journey. I am loosely calling that an outline. We will see where she ends up by the time the story is done. For now, we start Part two of the 2025 Fifteen Minute Writing Challenge.
Day 48: It was a lot of responsibility to contemplate.
It was a lot of responsibility to contemplate. The thought sent shivers down her spine. She opened her eyes. “Brake lines are bade enough,” she deiced. “I’d hate to think about poison.”
Penelope read through the rest of the journal. There were more incidents but no one found who was responsible and Amelia did not learn anything more about her strange ability.
“I imagine if she is keeping her research quiet so she isn’t teased then she is rather limited,” Penelope told herself. She stood and realized she was hungry. She closed the book and stood. Penelope took the journal back to the library and shelved it back where it belonged. Her fingers itched to take down the next volume, but her stomach was rumbling.
“Food first and then another book,” she decided. She wasn’t entirely certain what she was going to make for dinner, but thought that it was probably best not to eat it over the older books. Penelope walked to the kitchen, stretching as she did so. After sitting so long she was a bit stiff. Amelia’s journal hadn’t really told her much about who might have wanted her mother’s brake lines cut or who she should look out for as a possible enemy, but it had let her know that at least one other person in her family understood the strange sensation she felt in the parking lot.
‘Even if she thought it strange as well,’ Penelope thought as she opened her fridge. While she learned to cook there were a limited number of things she could make without needing to consult a recipe. Fettuccine Alfredo was one of them. Penelope put the water on to boil and measured out the amount of pasta she wanted to eat. She then pulled together the ingredients for the sauce. Thinking the sauce looked a little bare, she sliced up some ham into thumbnail sized chunks and decided to add peas. When the water was boiling, she slipped the tried pasta into the salted water and set the timer. When the timer went off, she scooped the pasta out and let it finish in the simmering sauce.
When everything was done, she poured it into a bowl. She set the bowl on the counter and moved the used bots to the sink. She poured the pasta water over the pan she made the sauce in so that the water could rinse out the bulk of the sauce remnants. She then left both in the sink and went to get a fork out of the drawer. Fork in hand she settled herself at the counter using one of the stools instead of going to the small kitchen table. She pulled the bowl over and was about the take her first bite when the phone rang.
Penelope sighed and thought about just letting the phone ring. She looked over her shoulder towards the living room. She left her cell phone on the coffee table. She could see it dance a little as the phone vibrated with the incoming call. “I should at least see who it is before I decide to ignore them,” she thought.
Penelope lowered her form back into the bowl and slid off the stool. By the time she crossed the living room to reach the phone it stopped ringing.
“Handy,” she said picking it up. She walked back to the kitchen with the phone in hand. Penelope sat back down in front of the pasta, but couldn’t resist looking at the missed call.
Ten til Midnight 