Close encounters of the left ear kind

I came home from our Guildford office today on the train. I was sitting down when a young woman sat down a couple of rows in front of me, across the aisle. A young man sat in the seat behind her. She suddenly stood up and yelled at him "stop following me". He stood up and said "I want my phone back".

Time always seems to take on a surreal quality when you see people arguing in public. The threat of violence suddenly feels very immediate, very primal. She put her hand in her jacket pocket, pulled out a ‘phone - and threw it at him. Her aim was very poor and it nearly hit me instead, whistling a couple of inches past my left ear, disappearing behind me and thudding to the floor.

She turned and stomped off. He turned and looked at me.

"Where’d it go?" he asked gruffly. I pointed over my left shoulder.

"It went that way" I said.

He stalked her down the other end of the carriage afterwards, standing a few feet from where she was sitting. I sat there wondering when it would be timely to intervene, if at all. But she cleverly did that thing of hovering by the door and jumping off the train just as it was closing at the next station. He was left thumping unresponsive buttons, unable to get out, and she was last seen heading through the station exit as we pulled away. End of drama as far as we were concerned. We were left to write our own imagined sequels and speculate on the back story.

My left ear was grateful that she missed. So I thought I would photograph it for posterity.

Other than that it was just a busy but normal day in the office ...