I finally was able to find the novel and read it, more than a year after seeing the play. As I read, I could see the play replaying (no pun intended) in my head, mentally comparing one to the other. I know it appears that I read a lot of literature that has been interpreted visually, but I usually don't. Fortunately, I'm equipped with a vivid imagination, and it doesn't always take a movie to make me "see" the story. Still, when you have, you can't help it.
The novel was short, just 160 pages, and it was very stream-of-consciousness, which I normally don't like. But the story was also very personal and once again frightening. One of the nights I was reading it, I had to put it down because it was late, and I was more than a little scared.
Still, the climax of the novel was nothing compared to the climax of the play, and even a year later, I remember the screaming, the train, and the fear that the play induced in us all.