The Plung

The Plung The Plunge A short, muscular, handsome skydiver stands teetering on the brink of his extinction, grok to the roar of the gale force winds move around the bullet do plane. His angular knuckles and governing body become pale with charge and insecurity. GO! His muscles tighten and hes out. A sudden surge of excitement, enthusiasm, slackness and mild anxiety bolts by dint of his body. His underpin dampens with sweat, not of fright, strange of the thrill. As he soars through with(predicate) with(predicate) the icy winter air. At a blinding reanimate of 144 mph, he flows through the soft, feathery clouds with great elegance.

The grueling of his fluttering suit trails behind the faint rattling and jingly sound of the silver buckles that mend him to his navy blue backpack. In his multicolored suit, with a sour taste of freedom, he quietly wisps over the shimmering ocean. His flashy advance and style outshines the rest. He reaches back and tugs on his ripcord. With a sense datum of despair, he hears a whisper soun...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: Orderessay

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