Trevor shrugged and proceeded on to the front counter, passing under the electric marquee. Raptors had always been pretty cool, in his opinion, but he wasn’t planning on vacationing as one. After waiting in line for a few minutes, he stepped up to the counter just as the couple in front of him left, deciding to be red-winged blackbirds.
“Welcome to The Flight Dome, where it’s always a great day for flying,” the clerk greeted him happily. Trevor felt sorry the guy. He probably had to say that same stupid line all day. “Do you have a reservation with us sir?”
Trevor shifted uncomfortably for a second. “Um, yeah. It’s under Trevor Wilkinson.”
The clerk looked up Trevor’s information on the computer and then glanced back up at him. “Got it. Trevor Wilkinson. I show that you’ve got a week booked with us. Is that correct?”
“Yeah,” Trevor said a bit impatiently.
“Okay. Just to let you know that you can always request more time if you want to, though. Do you know which bird you’d like to become, Mr. Wilkinson, or did you need to look at the list for a second?” the clerk asked, gesturing to a booklet on the countertop next to Trevor. The thing looked like it was about fifty pages long.
“You got enough room in there for all those birds?” Trevor asked.
The clerk cocked his eyebrows and smiled. “It’s actually a pretty common question around here, but, yes. The Flight Dome might be one of the busiest places on the island, but there’s more than enough room and environments for everyone to enjoy. So, what it’ll be for you?”