fire island

smoke alarming the system and the burning engines with ball of fire, warning us both to evacuate immediately. My copilot knees trembling liked leaf, on a branch of breeze blowing against it. My hands steady and my heart with a nervously feeling, giving me a bad taste in my mouth, and the radio sound as of there is no help. In the distance of fear and the vision of finding a clear and clean spot, of sitting a bird build of material, in sensitive feeling with the lease mistake can cause an explosion of crash, every where below my feet is tall tropical jungle trees, and high mountains altitude of few thousand feet searching for a clear landing spot, with limitless time and nerve wrecking feeling, find it difficult of hope but praying we both make it out alive. the cloud seems as of tear drops, filled with lossless touch, the possibility of not knowing what can happen next. Few second in the palm of finding a way, for an open location from escaping a disasterous landing. More altitude lost and still seeking the land of hope, the blue ocean out left side of my window with tiny waves, telling me this is not a sea plane. The landing gear had Jammed, from all the damage done and I ask my copilot to go and give me clearance, I looked up and see the big green spot of empty field, few meters away. I radio my copilot and send a warning there is hope, please make us both wheels to sit the frying wings of flight 101 on, so we can drive to the land of survival. My copilot into the of distress of realising the landing gear, few minutes of finding resistance, smelled in the aroma of the cockpit. I radio my copilot and said find your way back, cause one way or another, I have to land this plane, I will not missed my marked on the only open field I have found. So low within couple hundred feet, no landing gear in the back of my mind, I have to sit this bird on the belly, wishing the fuel not exploded and left us both in the burning flames of aches. Copilot suggestion, using the wind of air to glide and slow down, the plane for airspeed. The meter spinning three sixty degree, make it difficult to hold the yoke steady, for a better landing, our only way out is to use our skills and trainful ability, to land this bird safely. God how can a angel fly in the mids of nowhere, in the light of beauty, the plane engine started to shake and vibrating the yoke in my hands, my focus is to make the bird nose, get closer to the land of green grass and the tailed, genuinely sit as perfect without any damages.