I was circling at an altitude of ninety feet over an endless cornfield, at a distance of a quarter of a mile from an enormous castle of meerschaum. Pigs danced on the battlements.
I circled for four hundred and eleven years. On the second afternoon I ran out of cigarettes, and from there on in it was hell. On the morning of the first day of the four hundred and twelfth year, I stopped dead and hovered. A terrifying voice from the air informed me that I was on sale at a deep discount, and there was a rebate as well. No exact figures were mentioned.
I remained there for another thousand years, hovering. The castle was torn down and replaced with an Arby's with a broken Coke machine. The cornfield remains unchanged.