#skywriting

#skywriting

It's London, 1923. Everyone suddenly looks up. Every one looked up. Dropping dead down the aeroplane soared straight up, curved in a loop, raced, sank, rose, and whatever it did, wherever it went, out fluttered behind it a thick ruffled bar of white smoke which curled and wreathed upon the sky in letters. Near the beginning of Mrs. Dalloway, an ordinary day is disrupted by a technological intrusion.