| OCR Text |
Show 279 the ground, the wheels lifting slowly upward into the fuselage. Quickly, it began to climb at a steeper angle, up out over the horizon of the buildings, the four black steaming ribbons of exhaust curving upward, until she knew that the plane was now out over the ocean. And now again she looked back around her at the other people watching the takeoffs and landings, as if to affirm that she had not been left totally alone upon the face of the earth-another plane was now charging down the runway-and when she looked back, her plane was a distant figure in the sky, the black ribbons of its trail dissipating. She watched until the plane became a speck in the sky out over the ocean, and then it was gone, disappearing completely into the future. And yet another plane was now charging down the runway. And then another. Washington, Honolulu, Mexico City, Seattle, San Francisco, Phoenix; those were the names of the places those planes were going to. But she had never been there, to any of those places, she had never flown before. And it suddenly seemed that all those planes were not going to separate places, but somehow the same place. Some limbo in the sky, out there over the ocean. And the people on those planes remained in that limbo for certain periods of time, while life here on earth-here in Los Angeles-continued. And then they returned, dropping back down out of the sky to land here, and to resume their normal lives. Yes, that was how it seemed. For the center of the world was right here. In Los Angeles. Right where she was standing. She remained watching the takeoffs and landings, and the people |
