The nausea isn't as all-consuming as usual when I crawl in my underwear across the air-conditioned lock-up to lie gasping and perspiring at its edge. I must be acclimating to time jumps. Coherent thought's a luxury in these first few minutes so I simply wait for my breathing to steady and the shivering to kick in as the chequer plate metal floor absorbs whatever residual heat I possess.
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