Aerobatics
I
was an aeroplane pilot, flying in a squadron of three with old Chinese
propeller planes dating from the Second World War. Beneath me I could
see the Pacific Ocean glimmering in the hues of sapphire and cobolt.
Our direction was towards the continent, where the audience followed
our flight from big TV screens. The picture quality was poor and the
colours looked faded. The presenter spoke Chinese or Japanese.
We
had already made a number of manoevres that required skill and precision
but now we were getting close to a climax. We set ourselves in a formation
with me in the lead and the two other planes following me. We then
turned our direction up and started whirling each plane around its
axis. The speed slowed down as the planes spiralled upwards. When
my plane came to a standstill, I opened the cockpit, stepped out and
walked towards the propeller so as to stand on it. This was possible
due to the gravity, which made sure that the plane was absolutely
still for a moment. I stood on the propeller, which hardly moved,
and the plane below me whirled instead. For an instant, then, with
my hand sheltering from the sun's glare, I stood there in mid-air
looking down at the audience. The other pilots did the same and, as
we started sinking, I quickly returned to the cockpit.
As
my plane was falling down, I grabbed the steering wheel, directed
the plane, and set the course back towards the ocean. From my mirror
I could see that the audience in the ground was still applauding at
our incredible stunt.