The incessant banging finally settled down to a steady rhythm. My eyelids felt as if they weighed more than a ton. I forced them open. I didn't have to do more than glance at the too-bright windows to know that I was on a railway train. The carriage lurched, helping me to sit up. What was I doing on a railway train?
Let's see, my mind set to work, as I closed my eyes again to slits. My mouth was dry and horrid. My eyes seemed wrong, too, as if my eyelids wanted to stick together. Gosh, whatever had Jenny put in our drinks last night? She and I had been drinking and she was giggling as we slid under the table and I leaned back and closed my eyes for a second.
Jenny. Yes, where was she? My slitted eyes went round the compartment. Clearly this was a first class carriage. The blinds were down on what must be the outer passageway but, on the other side, the windows, partly shaded, showed that the train was speeding past light green pastures dotted with dark brown cows.
I tried to get up onto my feet, my eyes still closed. There was something wrong with the shoes I was wearing. The heels seemed like points and dug in, as if I was trying to stand on the pegs of something. I reached forward to steady myself on the wall opposite. Standing up, my clothes felt all funny. I squinted at myself in the mirror beneath the luggage rack and emergency cord. Jenny looked groggily back at me.
For just a moment, I couldn't understand what Jenny was doing in the mirror. It was only when she opened her black-lined eyes, just as I did, stuck out a pale pink tongue over red, shiny lips, as I did, and then suddenly swayed beck from the mirror, as I did, with an awestruck expression on her face, that I realized that I was looking at my own reflection.