Jenna immediately spied the burlap sack as she opened the 2nd class berth. Looking like a deflated balloon with its unusually long ties just kissing the floor, the tan bag of coarse fabric lay conspicuously on one of the compartment’s green vinyl seats. She could just make out an outline of an object hidden within but the material bunched so much, Jenna wasn’t sure if it wasn’t empty after all.
She hesitated briefly at the door, inexplicably certain that stepping inside was the wrong move to make. She glanced around her. Though passengers were hurriedly scampering onto the train bound for Paris, her particular car was eerily silent and devoid of movement.
“This is stupid,” she said aloud, feeling better for having broken the stillness. “It’s just a bag.” With a shrug, she stepped inside and slid the door closed, purposefully sitting on the bench seat opposite the bag.
Ten minutes later, the train shuddered forward. No other passenger entered the compartment, but Jenna huddled in her corner by the window, watching London slowly flashing passed as the train left St. Pancras Station. Once outside city limits, the monorail gathered speed, powering up to 300 kilometers per hour. To Jenna’s dismay, the acceleration caused the burlap sack she had studiously ignored to slide from the seat onto the floor.
She instinctively grabbed for it, but having never been agile, Jenna only succeeded in grabbing the bottom seam as she raised her hand to the ceiling, effectively emptying the burlap sack’s contents onto the floor: a frayed, leather-bound book and a string of pearls of an unusual sallow yellow color.
Cursing her clumsiness, she went down to her knees and picked up first the book then the pearls, but before she could open the bag and shove the contents back in, the compartment door was shoved open.
***My attempt at prose. What do you think?***
Response to Kellie Elmore’s Free Write Friday: Word Bank
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