Bassim
VIP Member
- Joined
- Mar 1, 2008
- Member Type
- Student or Learner
- Native Language
- Bosnian
- Home Country
- Bosnia Herzegovina
- Current Location
- Sweden
Please, could you proofread the first part of my short story "The Parachutist"
When I was a young boy I used to sit very often on my balcony and watch activities above the sport airfield which was not so far away from our house. I would take with me some cakes, fruit and juice and sit comfortably in the camping chair watching planes, and gliders flying in the clear blue sky. I could not see the runway because of the roofs of other houses, but I could see planes when they began to rise slowly off the ground and ascend into the sky.
I would follow them with my eyes when they soared over the town, buzzing like huge insects. Sometimes they were pulling a glider on a towrope and I always waited for the moment when the glider unhooked the rope and started soaring in the air freely and noiselessly using thermals as a means of propulsion.
The scene filled with me happiness and I was imagining being inside the cabin and watching down at the town, buildings, streets, trees, meadows, hills and a river winding through the beautiful landscape. I have always thought that flying must be one of the greatest experiences a human being can have in his lifetime. To be somewhere in between those two elements of our existence, the earth and the sky, moving through the air and breaking the shackles of the gravitational force.
Now and then, special acrobatic planes and gliders would arrive at the airfield and they would turn the sky into a big playground. A little plane did loops, eights, rolls, spins and other figures with such easiness and daring as if the pilot was a child playing with his favourite toy. With every figure he made my heart beat faster and although sitting in the chair, I felt my head spinning around.
To be continued.
When I was a young boy I used to sit very often on my balcony and watch activities above the sport airfield which was not so far away from our house. I would take with me some cakes, fruit and juice and sit comfortably in the camping chair watching planes, and gliders flying in the clear blue sky. I could not see the runway because of the roofs of other houses, but I could see planes when they began to rise slowly off the ground and ascend into the sky.
I would follow them with my eyes when they soared over the town, buzzing like huge insects. Sometimes they were pulling a glider on a towrope and I always waited for the moment when the glider unhooked the rope and started soaring in the air freely and noiselessly using thermals as a means of propulsion.
The scene filled with me happiness and I was imagining being inside the cabin and watching down at the town, buildings, streets, trees, meadows, hills and a river winding through the beautiful landscape. I have always thought that flying must be one of the greatest experiences a human being can have in his lifetime. To be somewhere in between those two elements of our existence, the earth and the sky, moving through the air and breaking the shackles of the gravitational force.
Now and then, special acrobatic planes and gliders would arrive at the airfield and they would turn the sky into a big playground. A little plane did loops, eights, rolls, spins and other figures with such easiness and daring as if the pilot was a child playing with his favourite toy. With every figure he made my heart beat faster and although sitting in the chair, I felt my head spinning around.
To be continued.
