He wasn't going to think twice about disposing of me, especially considering then he'd get the chance to sit with you.
Though his hiking boot-march through the carriage was rather revolting, it wasn't this that made my hands tense up into sour claws of nausea. It was the way he said it.
"You're in my seat."
No "excuse me," no polite uncertainty, just the rigid, hideous fact. The thud with which it landed expelled all my preparation. Before I remembered my plans to pretend to be asleep, deaf, French, or only sat there because someone else was in my seat, I was walking to find another vacancy.
I ended up dwelling unhappily beside a girl with a boys bum. I knew that because she walked too far past when she returned to one of what I thought to be two empty seats when I sat myself there. I fidgeted until our reunion on the platform, where you brutally informed me "That man was really rather pleasant, actually."
Today I thought I'd better make sure that couldn't happen again and I pulled the ticket from the top of my seat. It took a few attempts and the facade of hanging a jacket to finally complete. I was terribly cautious. There's a threat of punishment for such deeds by fine as far as I understand, but those shackles were at the back of my mind as I crushed the reservation in my hidden fist. Folding and squeezing as if it were that beast on the way to the seaside.
Fortunately, there was no retribution. If anything the train got quieter as the journey continued.
And so in the tunnel, unable to decide, my head flicked through this trilogy of angles, angel after angle, until we were out the other side.
My frantic twitching no doubt caused the man at the adjacent table to narrow his eyes at the very least, I imagine.
I don't know for sure.
I didn't have time to add him to the cycle.
The song goes on longer than this...
He wasn't going to think twice about disposing of me, especially considering then he'd get the chance to sit with you. Though his hiking boot-march through the carriage was rather revolting, it wasn't this that made my hands tense up into sour claws of nausea. It was the way he said it. "You're in my seat." No "excuse me," no polite uncertainty, just the rigid, hideous fact. The thud with which it landed expelled all my preparation. Before I remembered my plans to pretend to be asleep, deaf, French, or only sat there because someone else was in my seat, I was walking to find another vacancy. I ended up dwelling unhappily beside a girl with a boys bum. I knew that because she walked too far past when she returned to one of what I thought to be two empty seats when I sat myself there. I fidgeted until our reunion on the platform, where you brutally informed me "That man was really rather pleasant, actually." Today I thought I'd better make sure that couldn't happen again and I pulled the ticket from the top of my seat. It took a few attempts and the facade of hanging a jacket to finally complete. I was terribly cautious. There's a threat of punishment for such deeds by fine as far as I understand, but those shackles were at the back of my mind as I crushed the reservation in my hidden fist. Folding and squeezing as if it were that beast on the way to the seaside. Fortunately, there was no retribution. If anything the train got quieter as the journey continued. And so in the tunnel, unable to decide, my head flicked through this trilogy of angles, angel after angle, until we were out the other side. My frantic twitching no doubt caused the man at the adjacent table to narrow his eyes at the very least, I imagine. I don't know for sure. I didn't have time to add him to the cycle.
Really? I do not have this version although...
Really? I do not have this version although...