Alex surveyed the field of potential candidates, and tried to pick one. He was selecting a sweater for his lover, Doris, who was returning home from the hospital. He didn’t want her to be cold in their airy flat.

The sweaters presented a difficult choice. Or, rather, Doris’s taste in sweaters made the choice difficult. There was the black V-neck – when wasn’t black in style? Or the earth-tone rabbit’s wool. Mmm, the cashmere one was soft to the touch, and a deeply brilliant azure.

All three quite distinct, and all three (potentially) in a style that Doris would fancy.

Alex asked a nearby saleslady which one she would prefer. She instantly went for the black one. A passerby overheard, a matronly lady (she looked just like Doris’s mother), and proudly pointed to the rabbit’s hair. A third person, this time a man who looked interchangeable with Alex (except slightly taller and blonder), picked up the blue one.

Again, Alex surveyed the field of potential candidates, and tried to pick one.