Egg Holes

The plane lands in Dubai. 

Where next for you? asks Gaius.

Sydney, says Henriette. So this is goodbye.

Can I keep this? asks Terence.

Oh yes, your design for a trapolator, says Henriette. May I see it?

Terence shows her the picture.

He has been working on it for ages.

What are the dots? asks Henriette.

Egg holes, says Terence.

Don't you need only one egg hole? asks Henriette.

No, says Terence. Each egg needs an egg hole.

So they each have a special place on the inside, says Henriette. Like a private cabin?

Terence had not thought of that. He just thought each egg would need an egg hole.

Once they were in, they would all jumble together. 

But Henriette's idea is a good one. Private cabins!

Yes, says Terence. I'll be drawing those next.

Everyone is standing up now, pulling their things from the overhead lockers.

I'll need that piece of paper, says Henriette.  

So will I, says Terence. 

But Denis's email address is on it, says Henriette.

Terence gives it to her. She turns on her phone and adds Denis to her list of contacts.

Bye now, says Henriette. She moves forward.

Hey! cries Terence. My paper!

Didn't she give it back to you? asks Gaius. 

I haven't got it, says Terence.

Did you drop it? asks Gaius.

No! says Terence. 

Never mind, says Gaius. You can re-do your drawing. It was, if I remember correctly, a rectangular box with multiple egg holes.

And each egg hole has a private cabin, says Terence.

You hadn't yet drawn the private cabins, says Gaius.  

Can you please get moving, says a passenger who is standing behind them,

Apologies, says Gaius. He moves forward. So does Terence.

Terence sees a piece of paper on the floor. 

Under a row of scribbled writing is a drawing of a rectangular box dotted with egg holes, and scuff marks made by people's shoes and trainers.

It's probably his paper, but it's ruined.

He will have to do the whole thing again.