White Motley by Max Pemberton — Read

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There is no more impressive fact of aviation than the speed at which the airman loses touch with _terra firma_.

At one moment the subject of congratulations amid a press of people, a familiar landscape about him, hills for his horizon, a great plain for his environment; at the next, he is high above the earth, the familiar landmarks are almost blotted out, the people have disappeared from his sight.

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