The wind howls as I stare through the plane’s door into empty sky, exhilarated.
My fucking rocket boots. Eleven years late, but finally arrived.
When Rob told me he’d built a pair, and chartered a plane, I jumped at the opportunity. But now, about to leap into freefall with nothing but boots to protect me, I’m having understandable second thoughts.
“We’re absolutely sure these work?” I scream over the sound of the engines.
“One way to find out!” He calls back.
“A series of clinical tests?” I try to ask, but by the end of the sentence I’m spiraling downward…