The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
The Station
When the train stops, I waken with a start and leap off.
The station is in total darkness, and clearly unmanned.
I probably mean unstaffed, but political correctness is the least of my worries right now.
I’m in the wrong place.
The train doors hiss shut, and it moves off, leaving me cursing in anger and disbelief.
I move cautiously away from the edge of the platform, searching for some indication of where I am, but I can’t see anything until I reach a wall.
I fumble along it, looking for a door, or an exit.
A light comes on at an upstairs window across the track, and a woman’s head appears between the curtains.
No more trains tonight, she calls, next one’s 8.15 tomorrow morning.
She closes the window, and the light goes out.
It’s bitterly cold, the wind howling in from the direction of the North Sea.
I know it’s crucial that I get somewhere tonight, that my journey was important, my meeting urgent, but, as I start to freeze, I lose the ability to focus, and my thoughts become more vague.
Now I’ve become disoriented, and worry that I’ll tumble onto the rails.
I crouch painfully, get onto numb hands and knees and feel my way through frozen puddles.
Icy sleet stings my eyes and I crawl round in ever decreasing circles.
No matter which direction I take, I come back to the platform’s edge.
I’m exhausted.
Maybe I’ll feel better after a nap.
Sound Bite Fiction 
Phew. The tension just keeps building, as does the nightmarish quality of this experience. His disorientation, constant returning to one point despite trying to move on. Scary. By the end his movements are doglike – ever decreasing circles, curling in on himself and giving in to the urge to just protect himself and sleep. Fantastic.
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Thanks, Margaret, I think you got exactly what I was trying to say.
Scary biscuits, hmm?
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Oh dear! Sleep might mean death, or limbo, or worse! Get up, man!
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Laughing at ‘death, or limbo, or worse!’
The mind boggles, Liz!
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It boggles daily!
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I shivered just reading it, what it was like for him I can’t even imagine. Nice one, C.E.
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Thanks, Keith
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I would have stayed on the train!
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Probably a better plan, Chris!
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If this meeting was so important he must remain awake instead of thinking about napping.
If only he had looked up again he would have seen the woman opening her curtains and once more peeping out to see what he was doing and planning to ask him to come in and wait for the morning train. She obviously didn’t care about political correctness either and …. well who knows?
********
I am glad you liked my song and am here as my own agent. Of course you can use it. But this morning I wrote a little extra song about the situation that you may or may not want to include.
I will send you the words…IF you are interested. Let me know.
Then if you would like to have the tune I will send the recording.
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No way will the woman invite him in, her husband is a gun-totin’ Texan!
I love the song, as you know, so please just send the words and the tune of the ‘little extra’ and no more teasing!
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Long Train Runnin’ …. or perhaps wrong train.
How utterly awful, poor stiff.
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Groan!
Thanks, Nancy!
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Just when I was about to break into stand-up comedy!
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Of course, my instinct was to scream ‘Don’t go to sleep!’
Yes, yes, I know, it’s only a story, but your chilling descriptions of the icy cold torture of your character had me right in there, freezing and disoriented too
And the charming neighbour, safely tucked up in her warm house, just added to the misery.
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These were my thoughts exactly! Any lady would be willing to give aid and comfort to someone in distress.
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The lady is married to a guy in Texas with a great big gun.
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She also has a great big son of a gun son who has a bigger great big gun!
https://pcloscloud.com/index.php/s/WHwL5skfgKkSL5S
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Maybe the ‘charming neighbour’ has other priorities.
See below!
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Or above!
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Pingback: Entrained – Tales from Glasgow
Of course Queen comes to mind. And I (mis)quote — Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught at a train station, no escape from reality.
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Laughing.
What a strange comment, my favourite kind!
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Dude!
the stuff of the peculiar variety of nightmare… quicksand rather than dragons
cool
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Too true, Clark, nightmares come in many flavours.
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Or maybe not. Great atmospherics, CE.
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