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 142: The binders had titles referencing regulations and protocols.
The binders had titles referencing regulations and protocols. She couldn’t tell if it was his office or just a convenient one he got to use periodically. She sat in the visitor’s chair. The padding had been worn thin through years of use and whatever padding it might have boasted was compressed by the weight of many rear ends. Penelope could feel the screw heads holding the legs on through the padding in the chair.
‘Still no explosions,’ she thought.
As the thought hit her, Penelope started to shake. Someone tried to blow up a car she was in. The thought was unbelievable. She was aware of Michaelson moving about. Still, she focused on herself for a moment, letting the reaction pass through her. She was safe for now. That was what mattered. Something else might come up. Was probably bound to come up, but she was safe now.
She closed her eyes and took slow and steady breaths. The shaking gradually stopped, and she felt less like running and hiding in a dark corner so no one would see her. The screws under the seat were also pressing painfully. She opened her eyes and shifted to a slightly more comfortable position.
Michaelson was sitting on the other side of the desk. He placed a bottle of water on the desk in front of her and within easy grabbing distance. He sat sipping from another bottle as he waited for her to settle. She let out a heavy breath and picked up the water.
“Better?” he asked.
Penelope nodded and unscrewed the cap from the water bottle. She was pleased to hear the little plastic bits snap proving it hadn’t been opened prior. She didn’t think Michaelson would poison her but was glad not to have to suspect him.
“I don’t suppose you’d care to explain,” he asked.
She took a swig of water, swallowed and lowered the bottle. “I’m not sure I have an explanation,” she told him. “One minute we are driving along and I was wondering if the magic shield violated my car’s warranty or was something I needed to tell my insurance folks about and then I felt the need to get out of the car. To open the door and run away.”
Penelope sook another sip of water.
“Like a compulsion?” he asked.
“I kept hearing get out, run away, now, in my head over and over and once I was walking I couldn’t make myself stop until I got to the corner,” she said. “I didn’t mean to ignore you then or run away from you, I just couldn’t stop.”
“Interesting,” he said. He took a sip of his water and leaned back a little in his chair.
“It’s possible someone sent the compulsion to help you out, to keep you safe. Which means I suppose that you have at least one friend as well as and enemy.”
“Right,” Penelope said. “An enemy.” She shook her head. “I upset a mean girl at school once and she made my life hell for a semester but generally speaking I don’t have enemies. And her worst weapon was a water balloon filled with blue dye on photo day.”
“Blue dye?”
“Yes, in the picture in my sophomore class yearbook I look like a half drowned smurf as she caught me directly in the face.” She was pleased he seemed to think the compulsion was sent by someone else and she made a mental note to find out about compulsions.
Ten til Midnight 