"I've always loved thunderstorms above the clouds on a moonless night," Bob said, "The thinner air already leaves you breathless, and then at first you see the lights flashing through clouds, you hear the waves of sound shattering against the hull, the starlight falling down upon the ship and seemingly holding it aloft, and then the lighting dances through the clouds, swirling, jerking, dancing with itself and a thousand friends, crackling with laughter and song. Now that is a beautiful sight."
I seem to have lost my pie cutter.
