Empire of Ice Cream (11)
The plane had been flying for several hours at high altitude when it started its decent.
What’s happening? He asked.
His question fell on deaf ears.
They landed in what looked like a military airport. There was barbed wire surmounting the fence and big, green transport planes.
Danker understood that they had stopped for refuelling. When they took off again, he had caught sight of a city below – was that the dome of St Peter’s?
Am I in Italy? Where are we going?
He looked round him. But nobody seemed to have heard.
Suddenly the anger rose up inside him.
Where are you taking me?
He wanted to shout, but his questions came out weaker.
What’s happening? He asked.
His question fell on deaf ears.
They landed in what looked like a military airport. There was barbed wire surmounting the fence and big, green transport planes.
Danker understood that they had stopped for refuelling. When they took off again, he had caught sight of a city below – was that the dome of St Peter’s?
Am I in Italy? Where are we going?
He looked round him. But nobody seemed to have heard.
Suddenly the anger rose up inside him.
Where are you taking me?
He wanted to shout, but his questions came out weaker.
posted by sp at 8:23 am
1 Comments:
I believe it might be Burkina Faso where an exact replica of St Peter's has been built. Always good to bear in mind when in the throes of rendition.
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