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"I need some exercise," said Uncle Roger, squeezing past me into the aisle. He walked up and down the aisle, bumping into stewardesses. "I'm a frequent flyer," he said to the stewardess with the red hair who was collecting half empty plastic food trays a few rows behind us. He flapped his arms like wings and pivoted around, heading down the aisle the other way, still flapping his arms. |
Uncle Roger File 3: Terminals by Judy Malloy