She couldn’t get up from the chair any easier than if she had been tied to it. Fear pressed on her chest and pinned her to the backrest. What had begun as a faint rushing sound of water had become a roaring in her ears, surely just outside the door. She pushed a thick tongue over the cracks of her lips.
It was coming.
Gasping now, she forced her eyes to stare at the ordinary items littering the table. Butter dish. Keys. A smear of honey with a dried thumbprint, frozen like an ancient fly in amber. Eyes screaming, she blinked just once, quickly, but it was there, her fear. And what shape it would take when it stepped from the train was anyone’s guess.
____________
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Karen B. Nelson 
Ah, the mystery of trains. Reminds me of a dream I have had a few times, will have to get it written down at some point. Just one suggestion and it is just my opinion, I think you could have left off the first line; the second sentence is more powerful.
Potent! If that’s a panic attack, I’m glad I’ve never had one on my own…your simulated one was enough!
I love the personification of fear in the last sentence. Beautiful.
Neat interpretation of the inspiration image you chose, especially the cracked lips.
At first I thought maybe she was just getting overexcited about dinner or something, haha, but I guess there must be something considerably worse ahead!
Dear Karen,
Black train’s coming…
The writer dives headlong into the mysteries of the mind and you’ve clutched us to you as you dove.
Even as we fall into your nightmare vision, we think to ourselves, “Ooh, this is good!”
Aloha,
Doug
Oooh, shiversome! Your imagery is masterful and really makes the story come alive.
Great job with your photo prompt, Robin
I really like this setting and the line, “A smear of honey with a dried thumbprint, frozen like an ancient fly in amber.”
Nice post!
Thanks to everyone for their comments and support – so sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. Some weeks I wonder how I can even squeeze in the 100 words!
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