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 120: She decided she would make another peanut butter sandwich and then figure out how to ask if Mrs. Merriweather was trustworthy or not.
She decided she would make another peanut butter sandwich and then figure out how to ask if Mrs. Merriweather was trustworthy or not. Penelope went to the kitchen. ‘While knowing if they were friends in the past would be useful and just generally good to know at the moment it is how she plans to deal with me that is more important.’
Penelope nodded to her self as she slapped together a sandwich quickly and quieted her rumbling stomach. ‘Also might need to find out how often using magic is going to make me eat,’ she tho0ught. Penelope was certain she’d eaten more today than she usually ate in several days. She just felt hungry after using magic in ways she wasn’t used to.
She wondered if she was so hungry now because all of it was new to her. ‘Like a muscle you haven’t used in a while being sore after exercise.’ She shrugged. It was another question on the list and another reason to hope Mrs. Merriweather could be trusted.
As she ate her hastily assembled sandwich, Penelope realized that seeing her neighbors and their reactions n the stone had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She wanted to think of her neighbors as more neutral if anything. Pleasant to pass and say hello to but otherwise unconcerned with her and her life. After all she knew the neighbors she lived next to for years by sight and name only. ‘And the name only because it was on their mailbox,’ she reminded herself.
They nodded in passing but never really made contact. She knew here where a nightly happy hour in the neighborhood was standard things would be different. ‘I also didn’t really trust the neighbor once she got talking,’ Penelope reminded herself. There had been too many off reactions and the conversation felt just a little bit off.
She finished her sandwich and tidied the kitchen. As Penelope dried her hands, she realized she was stalling. If Mrs. Merriweather turned out to be primed to betray her then she wasn’t exactly sure where to look next for a person who might be willing to help her.
“I have to know one way or another,” she told herself. Penelope marched herself into the bedroom and tried to ignore her fears as she settled herself on the bed. This time things were easier. She knew what to call Mrs. Merriwether and could dismiss thoughts of the past to focus on the present. Penelope took a few deep breaths to quiet her fears and focused on her questions.
“Can Mrs. Merriweather be trusted to help me now and not betray my secrets?”
Penelope kept the thought in her mind as the glass glowed first that bluish not quite purple color and then was pushed to the edges by the white glow.
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Merriweather said. Even small and tinny sounding the words had a distinct layer of frost on them. Penelope leaned in. Agent Michaelson was standing before her.
“I was just…” he began.
“Snooping,” Mrs. Merriweather finished. She pursed her lips together tightly. Mrs. Merriweather glared at Agent Michaelson.
Ten til Midnight 