HOÀN THÀNH
Climbing Through the Storm
Twelve meters. Khanh Thi knows that number exactly because she counted each iron step on the exercise pole, counting so she wouldn't have to look down. The wind this morning was not strong, just enough to make the red flag on the roof of the transformer station flutter, but the thick rubber gloves in her hands were already soaked with sweat from the eighth step. "Hook the secondary line before leaving the main hook. Repeat." Thang's voice echoed from the ground, not loud, not urgent, just like the sound of tapping. Khanh Thi tightly grasped the horizontal iron bar in front of her, her knees trembled little by little...
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DANH SÁCH CHƯƠNG
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