Sunday, December 02, 2007

What? What? Hands? Feet?

And of course I shall never forget- three days out of RAF Luna- the moment when Barrett took a crow-bar and tore up some of the plates that made up the very floor of the HMSS Spitfire. You can imagine the panic; an ecstasy of fumbling for respirators and clamp-suits. But here's the thing: Up came the first plate. Were we sucked to our death? We were not. Up came the second, with similar results. Up came the third and Barrett dropped his crow-bar and just looked into the darkness he had opened, as the Spitfire continued on its course to DELETED.

Then he fell to his knees and took off his left glove, even as the lads called upon him to come away from there. He reached into the blackness...and closed his hand around something.Clay. Hard-packed clay. Barrett turned to the rest of us and smiled. "Lads", he said. "We can tunnel our way out!"


Anonymous Monitoring Station said...

We received your signal. You sound a little anxious. To ease your mind we would like to broadcast to you a relaxing poetry reading.

12:44 AM  

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