He was seated behind the driver
This brought all the passengers into his vision
Moving down the carriage, the man with the large paper
One hundred miles to go, ninety till they went through the tunnel
Seven tables down from him, the nervous woman
Ninety miles to go, eighty till they went through the tunnel
The old woman, six tables to the right
Noticed the nervous woman, went over to speak to her
Eighty miles to go, seventy till they went through the tunnel
The man with the large paper left the carriage
Seventy miles to go, sixty till they went through the tunnel
The man with the large paper came back with a coffee
He glanced at the nervous woman
Sixty miles to go, fifty till they went through the tunnel
The old woman went back to her seat
The nervous woman thanked her
Fifty miles to go, forty till they went through the tunnel
The man with the large paper was a professional, blank eyes
The nervous woman glanced at him
Forty miles to go, thirty till they went through the tunnel
The old woman left the carriage
Thirty miles to go, twenty till they went through the tunnel
The nervous woman seemed more relaxed now
Twenty miles to go, ten till they went through the tunnel
The old lady didn’t come back
The man with the large paper was folding it towards him
The nervous woman moved slightly to the left, cold eyes betraying her
The train entered the tunnel.
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Author:
Paul Bell (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 18th, 2026 06:03
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
Offline)
Comments4
I'd like to know what happens in the tunnel Paul.
Do the assassin's get their mark?
- Syd 🍄
I would have to kill you if I told you.
😅🤣😅
There’s a damn effective slow-burn tension here, with the mileage countdown making the tunnel feel like an approaching deadline. The final movement—“folding it toward him,” her cold eyes, then darkness—is beautifully ambiguous and leaves the reader wondering who was really watching whom.
Just the way I wanted it. Thanks for reading, how\'s the short stories coming along.
Here poetry merges with story. The repetitions enhance the tension building with every line. The introduction of other characters broadens the perspective and increases the complexity as opposed to narrowing it. The reader searches for answers as to why the nervousness. There is something about the tunnel the continued announcement like the tick of a clock the leaving of the car and diminished nervousness (but why) is the location or the closeness to the tunnel. The moving to the left (is it fear of the sides being hit on the tunnel) and closing of the eyes (not wanting to see what is coming). The whole write is the process of anxiety at approaching danger. Well written my friend.
I like tension in reads. A bit like the cinema when the monster suddenly appears and the girl behind you topples a bucket of popcorn over you.
I never get that lucky it is usually one of those large drinks with ice
I get the beer at the football when we score.
Paul, this plays like a tightly edited thriller. The recurring countdown steadily closes the trap while seemingly mundane details become increasingly ominous. Then darkness arrives at precisely the moment everyone’s intentions appear ready to surface...superb suspense, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Stay away from trains now.
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