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    Hello, please can someone check my short story? Max is 550 words, excluding title and all of that, but im sure they will be leniant.
    Thanks, and here is the story:

    The Centenarian Giant Bird
    By Tomas Novotny, Age 13, Prior Park School Gibraltar

    Airports are the same all over the world, but the one at Prague had managed to achieve a new level of ugliness and of ancientness. It had been built in the middle of nowhere, so that, from the air, it looked almost like a mistake. At ground level it offered just one low-rise terminal built out of glass and tired, grey concrete, with six white letters mounted on the roof. I gazed upon the Departures board. The letters quivered: OK 4654 To: London - Gate: D34. I headed my way towards the departure gate, tripping over the thousands of pot holes that swam on top of the concrete base.
    Meanwhile, the pilots had just arrived from the nearest town, that in fact was not near at all. It was a whopping 75 miles North, with just pure and utter tarmac in the middle. The airport was due over 50 arrivals on that day, and believe me, I do not know at all why people come here…to the middle of nowhere. They slowly boarded the crooked monster, like a snail gliding towards a leaf. The innocent passengers took some of their last steps as they boarded the plane. The airport staff, frowning, snatched our passports and boarding passes. We calmly, although starting to worry, sat down inside the cabin. The plane immediately started to taxi towards the runway. The engines were lions, roaring at their prey (in this case at passengers). It seemed to me that the plane nearly ran off the 2mile long air strip, before finally ascending into a larger angle than 0°. The pilot started reciting the classic facts: Outside temperature, Flight time, Weather in destination, etc. Surprisingly, throughout the whole flight there were no refreshments, not even normal water.
    The flight continued normally for the next 2 hours, until a loud unusual whistle filled the crisp air. The whistle was going in crescendo. Many people hung on to their ears, trying to minimize the amount of sound heard, others were taking out their mobile phones, recording the strange occurrence, and others including me were just gazing outside the window trying to spot a problem on the outside of the aircraft.
    The cockpit door was ajar. You could hear the screams of the pilots and the shouts of the man, desperately trying to give lifesaving advice to the captains, from the control tower. The airplane broad-casted a flight-attendant speaking in an urgent voice. "Everyone! Stay calm! We are experiencing some minor difficulties with the aircraft. Please make use of the oxygen masks we provide!" The captain cut her off. The crooked, menacing voice sounded once more on the ancient aircraft speakers. The sinister message that the voice revealed to us was rather horrifying.
    The indefatigable alarm sounded across the slow, heavy moving giant bird. I could sense the machine rapidly descending into the dark, mysterious ocean. The giant, long arms of the plane seemed to be hanging on a single thread, about to snap. I decided to inform the captain of the rather loose wings. The steps that I took forward on that stained, old carpet of the cabin’s floor were trembling, but I knew I had to move forward, leaving behind all the worries that had been attached to me. I must leave now, goodbye.
    - A book with this truly melancholy text written on it was found, floating in the Atlantic Ocean during the search for the black boxes of the plane that went down just minutes before, the author is to this day unknown. The only clue were initials written at the front of the school textbook: T.N. -
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