On the fuselage at the edge of the doorway a faint trace of a word had been left, in paint that perhaps had permeated some tape or a sticker since removed. The word was repeated five or six times in a column: VOID.

    VOID

    VOID

    VOID

    VOID

    VOID

It was the muffled, lustful plea of all the plane's pressurized contents, static yet animated with the potential to explode into cold, dark space.

Coffee maker 1.