I live in an airport FYI. It's not like regular airports. It's an air park. If that's what you want to call it. And NO I am not a hobo. I do not sleep on a bench. People are so MEAN sometimes.......
Me: *sitting on bed reading 'no capes' on Wattpad. (super good book).*
Dad: Wanna fly?
Me: sure
•• time skip ••
Dad: just put this on.... *hands me parachute*
Me: *nerves skyrocket* ok
Dad: and climb on in.
Me: *gets in* lets go *worrying about crashing, ect.*
Dad: ok *tests out engine and sees if we have enough gas/ fuel*
Me: *puts on headphones (they help us talk to each other over roar of engine)*
Dad: *puts on his* we ready?
Me: yup
Dad: *pulls into runway, starts to fly*
Me: whoa *ears pop*
Dad: yeah
Me: look at the cattle.... they look so small.
Dad: yeah, they look like ants.
There is no way to describe flying. I rode in a bush plane of sorts. It wasn't a jet. At all. This was a little insight on my life. Hope you enjoyed.
