Tuesday

Saw her again today, on the train. I imagined myself going over to her, making a hilarious quip and then skipping forward to the evening where I seduced her with a combination of smouldering glances, witty repartee and extremely strong Bulgarian wine. In reality of course, the moment I saw her I froze like Mr. Tumnus and peeked out occasionally from behind my seat to stare at her cautiously. She returned my glance once. I think. On reflection it is possible she was looking at the bird shit on the window behind me, which had ran dramatically to form what looked like a map of Italy. In a choice between myself and a curiously shaped piece of poo, I know which I’d choose.