Startmening ur boken The girl on the train av Paula Hawkins
I've been kept waiting. I glance at my phone. I have been sitting in this fake leather sofa for almost thirty minutes now. Sweat is pouring down my back; my thighs are sticking to the seat.
This morning I had made a real effort. I had brushed and braided my long dark hair. Put on a skirt. When did I last wear a skirt?
My hands had been trembling when I put on make-up.The mascara brush against my lashes had brought back memories of better days.
Should I stay or should I go?
They have kept me waiting for too long now. Maybe they have forgotten about me. That is easy to do; I do it all the time.
I can feel the butterflies. Or maybe it is just one, but she gets the other ones started. I wipe my damp hands on my skirt...It is more than one or two now - it is all of them. They are dancing around, flapping their wings and it is getting tight in my belly...
The butterflies can no longer fit so they continue upwards, chasing each other in my throat as well. I stand up. A woman is walking towards me. She is all grey. Silver coloured hair in a perfect cut. Dark grey pants, a blouse as grey as my mind. Her hand is reaching for mine.
I turn towards the door. I run.
The butterflies have won again.