Friday, 23 January 2015

No Air to Breathe: Or the one where I write more flash fiction.

This piece is basically exploring that feeling of claustrophobia that one can get in a social situation. You know, that sense of being stifled by too many people talking to you and at you and around you. When all the noise and light and sound just gets to be too much and you need air to breathe. 

I'm sure not all can relate to that, but to those who can, I hope you enjoy this.


She could feel her stomach rolling as she hastily exited the restaurant, the cool air hitting her like a bucket of ice after abandoning the stifling heat of a sauna. A shaky hand reached up to wipe her forehead and it came away damp with the perspiration that clung to her clammy skin. She felt nauseous, her mind foggy and her eyes unable to focus in that way one is only when they're on the verge of vomiting or collapsing. Either seemed possible at this point.

Swallowing painfully she plonked down on a bench sat not five feet away from the restaurant door, which would occasionally swing open and expel light, laughter and chatter into the quiet night air before closing and leaving her in the silence again.


No talking or questioning or stilted words to enter her bubble and interrupt her thoughts.

A breeze blew into her hair, flicking strands over her face that tickled her drying skin. Her pulse was fading, no longer thrumming inside her ears as it was before. She closed her eyes and sucked in a lungful of crisp air before releasing it in a deep sigh. 

And for the first time that night, she could truly breathe. 

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