In her yellow, the newest of her eleven bikinis, Jennifer had locked the door of her unit. With her Chilli Surfboard under her arm and beach bag shoul...ered, she had strolled down to her favourite beach. It was a fab day, not too burning hot, with just enough of a breeze and enough of a swell to please her five-foot-six Chilli.By one-o-clock, her usual mob – including the hard-partying late sleepers and a few short-time adopted backpackers – had arrived. The afternoon passed with surfing and the. He marched off to the central computer door that he had found the day before, it must be open now that he had disabled the locks. He found it, the yellow warning labels visible beneath the frost. He turned the handle, meeting resistance, and finding that was still locked. He slammed the door with his gloved fist as frustration overwhelmed him.“Why!? Why the fuck are you still locked!?”His voice echoed through the corridor, petering out into silence. As if in response, one of the lightbulbs over. More

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