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 89: Penelope looked down at her feet, realizing for the first time that she was barefoot.
Penelope looked down at her feet, realizing for the first time that she was barefoot. She stared at her feet and wiggled her toes. She could have sworn she was wearing shoes when she started walking, had in fact heard the soles of them hitting the concrete as she walked.
‘I also wasn’t wearing a swimsuit,’ she thought.
It was a modest one piece that had shorts on the bottom and instead of straps had a rounded neck, feeling more like a sleeveless shirt made for swimming. There was an odd look to it, more vintage than a modestly designed modern swimsuit. The fabric was slightly different as well. It was as though the swimsuit was a hold over from a different era.
Penelope was no fan of bikini’s always feeling somehow too exposed with her stomach on display. It was less of a modesty thing and more that when she looked at the skin, always pale from remaining under cover the rest of the year, she began to think terms like soft underbelly which she was certain came from watching too many nature documentaries as a child. She then couldn’t help but picture something with claws, hors or sharp teeth popping out to rip her open. She knew that the city swimming pool was little likely to have a rampaging rhino ready to gore swimmers, but the phrase stuck in her mind and always made her choose one piece swim suits.
The more she looked at it the more it the less it looked like a swimsuit. The material was certainly water resistant, but not normal swimsuit material. It was a little loose instead of fitting tightly to her skin . It was lightweight so unless it became super absorbent once in the water she doubted it would drag her down.
Penelope looked from the outfit to the water. It seemed the dream wanted her to go into the lake. She wiggled her toes again and the concrete somehow felt hotter beneath them. She could feel sweat sliding down her hairline and her throat felt dry and parched.
She searched herself but didn’t feel anything that felt wrong. ‘Maybe just a toe,’ she thought. Penelope slowly moved to the water. She stepped off the end of the sidewalk and onto the crispy crass by the side of the lake. It was baked dry and brittle by the sun. It felt itchy against her skin and she stepped up to the sandy edge of the lake. It wasn’t much of an edge, just a line of sand barely wider than her feet were long. She lifted a foot and dipped a toe into the water. It felt deliciously cool against her skin and she shivered in reaction. Penelope pulled her foot back and the sand felt warmer. She wondered if it was because she felt the cool water. Then she blinked. She sand wavered. She looked at it and saw it was radiating heat. She looked back and saw the sidewalk had rippling waves coming off it as well. The sand and concrete were getting warmer. Penelope realized she could no longer stand on the sand. She began dancing around unable to keep her feet pressed to the ground.
A wave of heat lifted and she saw part of the sand go molten, turning to glass. The heat was creeping closer. With a start, Penelope jumped forwards stepping into the lake with both feet as the ring of sand turned to molten glass.
Ten til Midnight 