Alex Turner - A Choice Of Three

In the tunnel, I noticed I had a choice of three. While I thought it very kind of them to offer me this, I do wonder if they realise what a dilemma they were sending to face me. The trouble was if I looked at your reflection in the left window I missed the actual image of you and your reflection in the right. And if I looked in the right I had the same problem but the other way around. At first I thought I should probably settle on one of the two mirrors as they were soon to disappear, but that idea quickly wilted and my attention was drawn back to the center occasionally checking on either side. I must say I did question the authenticity of your nap a few minutes before. As the train left I suspected it could be a device to avoid conversation. I barely considered this for a moment, however, when a heavy breath and a gulping sound that I decided would be too embarrassing to fake led me to conclude that your nap wasn’t fraudulent. I found it difficult to concentrate on anything else as you slumped beneath your coat. Delighted that we’d waiting until this hour to travel so the evening soon got its opportunity to skip across those sleeping cheeks, but unnerved by the prospect of being removed from the opposing chair to yours. I knew it was reserved, but hopes whoever had reserved it has fallen over. It looked as if today I’d be safe; the train wasn’t too busy, but I did take a moment to recall a time when I was less fortunate. I remembered it with a chilling vividity when we were on the way to Brighton. I knew it was going to be his seat as soon as I saw him on the platform unzipping, checking, zipping, and re-checking things. Something about his face suggested that he had for years had a moustache and had not long since removed it. He wasn’t going to think twice about disposing of me, especially considering then he’d get the chance to sit with you.