Only Amy herself can tell this:
"For 9/11 Friday, here is a commemorative tale. I worked in Lower Manhattan at the time, so was one of the ash-covered people you might have seen on TV that day. This is a true telling of my day's start. It still sometimes feels like science fiction."
When I emerged from the subway station, dark gray smoke was billowing around the WTC towers, shrouding their tops. People were milling around, some clutching their faces as if models for Munch’s “The Scream.”
“What happened?” I asked no one in particular.
“Plane crashed into the Towers,” said the nearest person.
I watched the smoke thicken and felt the noise volume around me rise, as office workers left their desks for the streets.
I entered my office building, dodged the security guard and slipped into the elevator. Maybe I’d find out what happened when I got upstairs to my cubicle.
"For 9/11 Friday, here is a commemorative tale. I worked in Lower Manhattan at the time, so was one of the ash-covered people you might have seen on TV that day. This is a true telling of my day's start. It still sometimes feels like science fiction."
When I emerged from the subway station, dark gray smoke was billowing around the WTC towers, shrouding their tops. People were milling around, some clutching their faces as if models for Munch’s “The Scream.”
“What happened?” I asked no one in particular.
“Plane crashed into the Towers,” said the nearest person.
I watched the smoke thicken and felt the noise volume around me rise, as office workers left their desks for the streets.
I entered my office building, dodged the security guard and slipped into the elevator. Maybe I’d find out what happened when I got upstairs to my cubicle.
