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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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- Пятьдесят оттенков серого
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- Стр. 702/797
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The
radio
crackles
into
life
,
and
Mark
mentions
three
thousand
feet
.
Jeez
,
that
sounds
high
.
I
check
the
ground
,
and
I
can
no
longer
clearly
distinguish
anything
down
there
.
“
Release
,
”
Christian
says
into
the
radio
,
and
suddenly
the
Piper
disappears
and
the
pulling
sensation
provided
by
the
small
plane
ceases
.
We
’
re
floating
,
floating
over
Georgia
.
Holy
fuck
—
it
’
s
exciting
.
The
plane
banks
and
turns
as
the
wing
dips
,
and
we
spiral
toward
the
sun
.
Icarus
.
This
is
it
.
I
am
flying
close
to
the
sun
,
but
he
’
s
with
me
,
leading
me
.
I
gasp
at
the
realization
.
We
spiral
and
spiral
,
and
the
view
in
this
morning
light
is
spectacular
.
“
Hold
on
tight
!
”
he
shouts
,
and
we
dip
again
—
only
this
time
he
doesn
’
t
stop
.
Suddenly
,
I
am
upside
down
,
looking
at
the
ground
through
the
top
of
the
cockpit
canopy
.
I
squeal
loudly
,
my
arms
automatically
lashing
out
,
my
hands
splayed
on
the
Perspex
to
stop
me
from
falling
.
I
can
hear
him
laughing
.
Bastard
!
But
his
joy
is
infectious
,
and
I
am
laughing
,
too
,
as
he
rights
the
plane
.
“
I
’
m
glad
I
didn
’
t
have
breakfast
!
”
I
shout
at
him
.
“
Yes
,
in
hindsight
,
it
’
s
good
you
didn
’
t
,
because
I
’
m
going
to
do
that
again
.
”
He
dips
the
plane
once
more
until
we
are
upside
down
.
This
time
,
because
I
’
m
prepared
,
I
hang
on
to
the
harness
,
but
it
makes
me
grin
and
giggle
like
a
fool
.
He
levels
the
plane
once
more
.
“
Beautiful
,
isn
’
t
it
?
”
he
calls
.
“
Yes
.
”
