

When I first saw the 80-year-old pilot with the corduroys and the striped suspenders, I had to swallow two or three times. During take-off I stared at his fleshy old-man's ear and thought about falling. I thought about holding the hand of my loved one while falling. Soon, I trusted the corduroy pilot entirely and let the winds rock my body over the ragged cliffs of the mountains.












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