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 63: She set the spoon in the bowl, turned the dial and had another bite as she listened to find out what sort of radio station this was.
She set the spoon in the bowl, turned the dial and had another bite as she listened to find out what sort of radio station this was. After a moment she decided the song wasn’t for her and turned the dial. As Penelope finished her breakfast, she rolled through the available stations finally finding one she liked. She left the dial where it was and the stereo at a medium volume. She had no desire to irritate her neighbors, she just wanted to eliminate the silence that filled the house.
“I’m sure it is just because I am not used to the house,” she decided walking her cereal bowl back to the kitchen. She washed it and the spoon, putting them in the dishrack to dry and then put the cereal box away. She hummed to herself as she took her cleaning supplies to the master bath and scrubbed down the shower stall. When it was gleaming and scented with her chosen cleaning products, Penelope returned the cleaning agents to the cabinet under the sink, washed her hands and went to choose her outfit for the day.
Given that her plans for the day included showering, dressing and sitting in a chair reading with the occasional note taking if the reading warranted it, she chose her most comfortable pair of lounge pants and paired it with a loose oversized shirt. The pants were wide legged and Penelope knew the outfit made her look more like a squarish bob than anything, but she knew it would be comfortable to sit around and read in.
“I’ll change before happy hour,” she decided waving away concerns of the fashion police.
Penelope showered, washed her hair, dried and dressed. She towel dried her hair, combing it through when wet and then leaving it to dry on it’s own. After a moment of thought, she added a moisturizing face mask to her face. It was in a bright turquoise blue that would dry to a hard crispy slightly less bright shade as it sat on her skin. It was also supposed to clear out her pores. Penelope added a lip mask and decided to let everything work it’s magic while she read.
In the library she chose the next volume from Amelia’s collection and took it into the living room to read.
The chair was comfortable and the journal interesting. By the time the mask dried to a hard crispy shell and Penelope returned to the bathroom to rinse it off, she hadn’t learned much more than she had. While no attacker had been identified, the attempts seemed to have stopped. Amelia got no strange feelings and people seemed to be less afraid of being poisoned.
Most of the family and staff seemed to believe the threat was over. Amelia thought that someone was biding their time.
‘After all,’ Amelia wrote. ‘We are hyper-vigilant now. We can not remain so forever, it would be exhausting and soon someone would slip up. When no attacks come, we will gradually stop expecting them believing they are over. Then would be a good time to try again, or at least that is what I would do. Father looked surprised when I offered him my opinion and informed my I was far too bloody minded for my own good. Personally as I’m the one who has detected the past contaminants and the one most likely to spot the future ones, I rather resent the comment. But I suppose there is nothing that can be done.’ Penelope washed off the face mask and dried her face, returning to the chair. A few pages later, Amelia speculated that the unknown attacker was trying to figure out who was discovering his attacks.
Ten til Midnight 