[She means to be quiet and listen while he tells his story, really, but she can't help but keep up a word or two of commentary as his recollection starts to paint a picture in her mind. The great ugly things, planes — she's never been on one, either, but she can imagine how unsettling they must be, climbing into one and being launched so high off the ground with nothing beneath you. That's not the way that travel is supposed to work, not like trains and riverboats and cars where there's the security of the earth underneath.
But there's love there, too, and she pays attention to that as well. That Trevor loves the sky, because it feels like it was made for him, what he was meant to do. At least, it did back then.
If she were to retell this story, she muses silently, she would make very sure to put emphasis on that.]
What does it feel like? To...take off. Isn't it frightening, to go up and know there is nothing beneath you?
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[She means to be quiet and listen while he tells his story, really, but she can't help but keep up a word or two of commentary as his recollection starts to paint a picture in her mind. The great ugly things, planes — she's never been on one, either, but she can imagine how unsettling they must be, climbing into one and being launched so high off the ground with nothing beneath you. That's not the way that travel is supposed to work, not like trains and riverboats and cars where there's the security of the earth underneath.
But there's love there, too, and she pays attention to that as well. That Trevor loves the sky, because it feels like it was made for him, what he was meant to do. At least, it did back then.
If she were to retell this story, she muses silently, she would make very sure to put emphasis on that.]
What does it feel like? To...take off. Isn't it frightening, to go up and know there is nothing beneath you?