A Choice Of Three by Alex Turner
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 realize what a dilemma they were sanding 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 mirrors as they were soon to disappear, but that idea quickly wilted and my attention was back to 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 have been 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 waited 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 of yours. I knew it was reserved, but hoped whoever had reserved it had 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 remember it with a chilling divinity 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'd 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 that he´d get the chance to sit with you.
