4692. Coromo took his canvas bag and put it over his shoulder. He
felt unstable on his feet from sitting so long. Inside the plane everything
had become so familiar, the shape of the seats and their color, the trim of the
windows and even the dog-eared magazines in the back of the seats took on the
character of a little secure world.
4693. In the plane
everything was known and understood. The air was a perfect temperature and all
was silent. On the other side of the exit door there was a brilliant light
shining, and strange unfamiliar roaring sounds.
4694. It was the tradition of the pilot of that craft to put on
the same piece of music over the sound system as soon as the craft came to a
complete stop. That piece of music was Pachelbel's Canon. Bach's air on a G
String would have done just as well.
4695. You probably
know Pachelbel's Cannon but Coromo had never heard anything like it before and
so his heart felt caught as in a vice and he could hardly manage to repress a
rush of tears.
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