Saturday, October 26, 2019

crazy dream :: essays research papers

My family and I planned to take a trip from our hometown, Alert Alabama to Chicago Illinois for the weekend. Our lives are very earth, very basic. There are four of us. Our name is the Tuckers and we live on a farm. Or I could say we rot on a farm. My name is Andy Joe Tucker and I am 18. Life is very boring there in Alabama, let me tell you, man. Our idea of fun is throwing knifes at pigs as they run around the pin in my back yard. We figured it is too hard to please ourselves all the time, so we planned on letting â€Å"run run run hustle bustle† atmosphere of Chicago please us for a weekend. We love Chicago and go there once a year. That Friday morning in July our airplane lifted from the ground. The flight began smooth and the plane was new. The air was fresh and the sun was bright, man. That all changed the moment the plane smashed and burned into the streets of the Chicago city. We were in the air and the sky was truly of heaven, bro. I felt as if I was with god gliding across the sky. The captain comes on the intercom and announces we are approaching Chicago but there seems to be a problem, man. He announces, â€Å"Ladies and gentlemen, we seem to be having difficulties contacting the Airport down below. Please stay calm while we await a signal that it is safe to land.† A thick and gruesome layer of muck and filth lay over the city. Looked like a damn pile of hay swirling around there yonder below. I cannot see the cotton picking ground for the life of me. The muck looks of something out of this world and all quite magical, man. The plane is circling the city with still no radio from the airport in return to our calls. Twenty minutes goes by. Suddenly, my chair becomes incredibly hot, so hot I start to scream. I look around and notice everyone in the cabin is having the same problem. I look down to unbuckle my seatbelt and get the hell of this seat when I realize the buckle is gone, MAN! Literally the buckle is no longer there, just the strap of the belt. I am trapped. In the middle of this excruciating dilemma of my seat and the cries of my fellow passengers, the planes nose goes vertical facing the sky, dude.

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