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CHAPTER THREE:

After two midair fights with the stewardess, our plane landed in New York. Beverly and I dragged our luggage along and went through security. The airport was not too busy, so we had no difficulty in getting out quite fast. All I really needed at that moment was a cigarette.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, that was much like the London weather that we had left behind, Beverly and I found ourselves a ride to our hotel. Americans were so much more different to the English drivers that we had become accustomed to.

Not much longer, we were checking into our hotel. I asked around the hotel staff about any nightclubs and bars around the area. I was given a pamphlet by concierge and Beverly and I looked through it once we had settled into our hotel room. We then decided that we would rather have drinks from the minibar, have a smoke and rest after the long flight.

"Hey, Bev?" I whispered through the dark.

"Yeah?" She responded.

"I have a feeling that something big is going to happen on this trip." I said.

"Isn't that why we left in the first place? For a greater adventure?"

"Yeah, I guess." I said, and then I was out like a candle.

Guess we had a little bit too much from the minibar.

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Heart Out [Michael Clifford]Where stories live. Discover now