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 100: On the third shelf, she pulled out a book and found there was something hidden behind the books.
On the third shelf, she pulled out a book and found there was something hidden behind the books. Penelope blew a strand of hair out of her face. There was a trace of exasperation on her breath.
‘Every time I go looking for the answer to one mystery I find another,’ she thought. Still she knew she couldn’t just leave whatever it was behind the books. She set the book on the floor and then took out several more from the shelf, setting them gently aside.
Clearing the books revealed a wooden box. She took the box off the shelf and set it on the floor. Penelope then reshelved the books. As she put them back on the shelf she looked at their flyleaf pages for their titles. To her delight one of the books dealt with symbols. She set it on top of the box and finished putting the other books back.
When everything was clean and tidy she went to the desk and placed both book and box down. The book she shifted to the side. The box was dust and Penelope left it there, dipping back into the kitchen for a cleaning rag. She wiped the box down, returned the rag to the kitchen and looked at the box.
The wood was rich looking, a deep brown with deep reddish streaks running through it. ‘Maybe it is cherry wood,’ Penelope thought looking at it. She didn’t know all that much about woodworking and thought that as cherries were red their wood might be as well. The box was satin smooth under her fingertips and she couldn’t help put let her fingertips dance across it’s surface for a few moments feeling the silky smoothness of the top.
She soon gave into the mystery of the box however and lifted the lid. Surprisingly, the box wasn’t locked. It was, however, lined with a deep blue velvet. Sitting on the cushioning velvet was a book. It was dark brown leather and at least two inches thick. Despite it’s size it looked more like a journal than a book for the shelves. Carefully, Penelope lifted it out of the box. It was heavy. She set it on the table, shifted the box to the side and then bulled the book over. She opened the cover.
The leather was stiff with disuse. She vaguely remembered someone mentioning old leather needed to be oiled periodically to keep from drying out. ‘Something to look up later,’ she thought.
Inside the first pave had one word written on it. ‘Research.’
Penelope turned the page and on the back of the page she saw Ameila’s signature in the now familiar handwriting.
Penelope smiled. “Well that’s handy,” she decided. Then she frowned wondering why it was hidden away in a box. Most of the books were on the shelf right in the open, personal journal or not. “The police file was hidden,” Penelope recalled.
She suspected whoever got the file wasn’t supposed to have the file. “Maybe this is the same.”
She nodded and set the book to the side. Penelope then gathered up all of the rings from the table and her failed location magic. She took them to the bedroom and tucked them back into the bags with the costume jewelry, leaving out the inscribed pieces.
Ten til Midnight 