I was having a normal day walking downtown with my friend, when I walked under a construction man’s ladder. My friend gasped and explained about the 7 years bad luck in a stuttering voice. I told him it was a load of mumbo jumbo and walked off. On the way home I was walking over a bog and tripped over a log . There was a warm red liquid coming out of my nose. I started sinking into the mud and had to pull very hard. My bag tore on the log and all my books and coins and stuff landed in the mud. This is going to be a long 7 years.
Flying over the streets of France, I feel free as a bird. I still remember running down the pavement, dodging old ladies and sprinting underneath ladders, coins jangling in my pocket. That was my first toy plane. And now I’m actually flying! The exhilarating rush left as soon as it had come and with a sinking feeling in my stomach, I remembered what I was here to do. I pushed the red button on the joystick. Five 250 kg bombs dropped on to the city below, killing millions. Tears came to my eyes as I flew away.