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 78: The older man nodded.
The older man nodded. “The happy hour gatherings?” he asked. Penelope nodded.
“Good,” he replied. “If anything happens they will be expecting it.” He looked at the plant. “Although I have to say this does look quite promising.”
“Does it?” she asked.
“Well, a bit unnerving, but a useful skill none the less. However we are here to talk about your vehicle. I admit the photos are a bit unsettling. Tell me, how is it that you thought to look? Is auto mechanics a hobby of yours?”
“No,” Penelope said shaking her head. “I know pretty much nothing. I can change a tire if necessary and check all of the fluids as well as put in gas and drive, but if something goes wrong, I just take it to the mechanic.”
“But you thought to look for damage?” he prompted.
“Well you see my mother died in a car accident and there were suspicions about her brake line being cut. I don’t know if anything came of that, but moving into the house she left me it was on my mind,” Penelope told him.
She wasn’t certain why she didn’t feel like mentioning Mrs. Merriweather or the file, but she decided to keep those details to herself. ‘I don’t see why he’d need them anyway.’ She glanced at the plant and thought of the way he was delighted by the show of skill. She somehow suspected it was less him being pleased she was learning her skills and more because he saw ways the Empire might find them useful.
‘Still can’t see it matters who told me.’
“Ah,” Michaelson replied. “So it was foremost on your mind because of the move.”
“And the accident,” she added.
“Accident,” he asked. A frown creased his face.
“Yesterday I went to the grocery store. As I was walking the cart back to the cart return a driver lost control and the car slammed into the cart return, crushing it. Someone mentioned his brakes went out.”
Like Mrs. Merriweather she didn’t mention her strong feelings about the cart return. She had both Amelia’s journal and the strong feeling inside her to guide her this time.
Michaelson frowned and pulled a notebook from his pocket. He started making notes. He asked her about time and the location of the store. He marked down the details and she thought he’d be checking up on them later. He also asked her about the date and location of her mother’s death. Somehow watching him make notes made it seem more real. Her hand started shaking. She had only taken a sip or two of the coffee as it was too hot to properly drink but now she held it for warmth, feeling her stomach already turn acidy.
“This was the first time I drove the car since the grocery store. I’ve been inside settling in and unpacking today,” She said.
“Was anything wrong on the way to the bank?” he asked.
Penelope shook her head. “No but I checked the underside of the car before leaving the parking garage. There was nothing hanging down strangely and nothing was leaking. When I checked it after talking with Mr. Fairchild, there was a cut tube leaking yellow brown fluid.”
He nodded. “Checked as a matter of course,” he mused to himself as he made a few more notes. “I probably would have done the same,” he told her. “I will have a tow truck come and take it to be investigated. And I will drop you off at your house myself.”
Penelope nodded.
Ten til Midnight 