The Fifteen Minute Novel: Day 149

The Fifteen Minute Novel is a novel written fifteen minutes at a time with each week day’s section starting with the sentence from the previous day. At least it is attempting to be a novel. For now I am just aiming at one continuous story, worked on for fifteen minutes each day. Started Friday January 1st, 2021 (in case you want to search for the beginning. I can’t wait to see where it ends up. It could be good, or it could be a mess. We’ll have to see. For now, here is today’s fifteen minutes.

Day 149: “But there should be something,” he thought.

“But there should be something,” he thought. The city was certainly large enough to have some form of continuing education or hobby class outlet.

James piled the boxes with the others in the garage and went back upstairs for another armload.  It would take some looking into, but he was certain he could find something.  “And Monday, Wednesday and Friday, seem like class meeting days,” he told himself as he picked up another load of boxes.  “Unless they are Tuesday and Thursday classes.”

He remembered in school trying for most of the Tuesday Thursday classes so that many of his semesters came with four day weekends.  Somehow those four day weekends never seemed hard to fill.  Now he expected a four day weekend would just give him extra angst as he tried to figure out what to do with himself. 

He placed the last of the boxes he managed to empty down on the growing stack. “At least now I have the hobby of auto repair I can fall back on.”  He looked around the garage.  While he sold all of his cars, his tools were packed away after the divorce and simply moved to storage.  His storage was cleared out and the boxes inspected before they were added to this lot.  Given the number of them, James was willing to bet that most of the boxes stored here contained his tools.  Once the garage was cleared and set up, he could work on the Studebaker or even purchase a project car. 

Each option had merit and as he went up to the bedroom to see what else needed to be cleared out to make the space work week ready, James pleasantly contemplated each option.  While the Studebaker ran well, it needed cosmetic repairs.  The cosmetics, especially things like replacing the seat covers and dealing with whatever was buried underneath the cushions could take the car out of commission for a while.  He would still need to have a vehicle to take him to and from work each day.

“And I can’t work on it just whenever I feel like it,” he reminded himself.  His old hose was separated by the neighbors by a large swath of lawn.  In addition he spent a great deal of time and money soundproofing his workspace so that Grace could hear nothing of what she termed his tinkering when she was in the house.  Here the neighbors were closer and there was no soundproofing on the garage.

James opened another box.  He remembered the sight of the small faces pressed to the glass looking at the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles.

“Kids,” he said.  At least one of his neighbors had kids.  He suspected more of them did as well.  Kids had earlier bedtimes, or at least they did when he was a child.  He doubted that actually changed much.  “So a limited time in the evenings I can get work done without complaints.”

A class might be a better weekly option,” he decided. “But maybe a project car on the weekends until it is up and running.  Then when I can use ot for work if I have to, I’ll work on the Studebaker.”

James felt relatively happy with his plan.  Or at least the beginnings of a plan.  A lot of it would depend on research but for the first time in a while, he felt like he was actually gaining a little bit of control.  Thinking and making decisions of his own.

Then his belly rumbled.  James placed the alarm clock down on the newly placed night stand and glanced at his watch.  It was edging towards lunch time and the pizza was long worn away.  Soon he would need lunch.  With the pizza gone, the cupboard was officially bare.

“So I’ll have to call Tucker,” James thought.  He felt a little of his control slip away and his mood deflated just a bit.

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