I can think of better ways to die. Than being on the wrong
plane at the wrong time. Being hit. By a missile. At 33,000 feet. The plane
disintegrates. I suppose one is dead.
Before hitting the ground. If not killed instantly, I wouldn’t last more than 5
seconds. I’d die of fright. Even if I had
a parachute, I’d succumb. Of fright. Just thinking of sky-diving. That’s
enough to make my heart palpitate. Maybe if I kept my eyes closed, it would
help. I’d not make a good bird. –Jim Broede
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment