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Lenny was a man from a town where he lived. Lenny was from Leicester. Lenny lost his light luggage, left with only the weighty. Lenny HATED Manchester Airport. Lenny looked like he knew not why he was there, in Manchester Airport, of all places. He grabbed a fish from a nearby barrel and assaulted the terminal with attitude. Stinking the whole way over, the kind folks at security told him he could not take trout to Tibet. Lenny thought that he was not to travel to Tibet, so he said "I'm not going there if it's the place I go!". Security thought he was mad, but being mad isn't actually agains the International Civil Aviation Organisation's rules, so they shrugged their bums and farted him through. It was a total disaster. His whole trip was not yet scuppered. When he thought about getting back to New Brunswick, he realised he wasn't from there. Good thing he wasn't trying to go home or he'd be lost. Lenny liked the idea of Lithuania, so left lots of time to look at flights plus things like *this* et cetera. He had a sister who he did know if she were thinking about him or not as he thought about her. She was from the same place as him before if he could remember it, but not, alas. Drowned in thought, he sank to the bottom of the pool of his consciousness, where he hoped it might drown, or at least drown out the omnipresent drone of scantily-clad airport announcements he hoped to understand despite their distracting.