English story
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South African (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
it was the hunters. First time outside Montana. He work stricken, stole with the our old vision off, ascending through Rose let cumulus off houses and barns like deep specks in the Snowden valleys, all the scrolling country below. Looking December brown and black heels, street with snow flashes off, asked over lakes, the long braid over river gleaming at the bottom of a canyon above the wing. The sky had deepened into a blue so pure he knew it would bring tears to his eyes if he looked long enough. Now it was dark. The aeroplane descended over Chicago, its galaxy of electric light. The vast neighbourhood's coming clearer as the plane glided toward the airport. Street lights, headlights, stacks of buildings, ice rinks, a truck turning at a spotlight, scraps of snow atop a warehouse and winking antennas, faraway heels. Finally, the long coverage perils ofthe blue runway lots, and they were down