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She slips her pocketwatch from her other pocket. The bustle of the airport is rather frightening. Hundreds of heads march around, led by their busy bodies. They look about blankly and blindly, ignoring everyone else around.
Alexia slips her pocketwatch back into her pocket. "I'm late... I must be dreadfully late."
She runs down the terminal from gate seven, past gate six, five, four, three, two, and... Wait. What's all this writing?
"I-I understand this, don't I?" Alexia cups her mouth, nibbling on a finger. Tracing the foreign script with her finger. "Why do I understand this?"
"Ah!" Alexia spins about. "Ye-