Raymond sat in his seat and scowled at his weak tea.  He hated the voyage already and they had barely left the ground.  He could feel the massive turbines spinning through the thin plates of the deck and up his feet.  The vibration was driving him mad.  He had to get out for a bit of air.  The little theatre was too close, too full.  Even if he wasn’t a rich man, he refused to travel to England packed in like a canned sardine.  He drained the tin cup and rose.  When he reached the door he found it locked.

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