I wasn’t quite sure how we were going to get five people
and four bikes on to the tiny plane. The
pilot started fitting some strange contraptions to the underside of the
wings. The small plane was transformed
and it started to look more like a modern day robot pterydactyl!
Now inside, strapped in, headphones and microphones
fitted. We were pilots of a World War II
miniature bomber. Ready for take
off. Roger that. You're good to go. The plane lurched into action and accelerated quickly towards the end of the runway.
The end of the runway. The end of the runway! The skyeeeee! Zooom!
With surprisingly little effort we slipped through the sky
like a speeding bullet. The ground far
below us now, and us, and our plane, and the bikes hanging under the wings held in
the sky by invisible strings. Just a
disappearing dot in someone else eye looking up.
Half way to our destination we were hit by invisible gun
fire. The plane bounced like a ball in
water. Always staying afloat but
sometimes moving unpredictably so as to make your stomach wish that it was back on
the ground. With so much to see from our
birds eye view the time past quickly and before we knew it we were dropping back towards the ground. But where? I couldn’t see a runway. Oh you mean that bumpy field… Hang on. Here we go...
My field of view was filled with green and then only sky. I felt the sudden kick and grasp of
the ground pulling at the wheels. The
engine roars one last time and
we
are
safe.
By Mr. H
No comments:
Post a Comment