The party was dull. Roger looked longingly at the mirror on the wall, he was listening to a man drivel on about buses.
He willed for there to be another world beyond the reflective pane that he could dive into.
Busman droned on, Roger wished.
Then, suddenly, an arm came through the glass, grabbed hold of his lapel and pulled!
Roger went with it, dragged into the most wonderful salon, filled with pretty girls, flowing wine and music. He tried kissing a girl.
The slap that he got brought him out of his dream.
Busman did not appreciate the tongue.