September

The sharp and stinging tear comes unannounced as I hear the familiar numbers. 9.1.1. The woman’s voice sounds strange, foreign, like she obviously wasn’t there… like she has no business even talking about it. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m already gone… I’m already swept away by the flood of memories. The smell is in my nostrils, the dust is drying the back of my throat My vision is blurred as a classmate runs out crying… I hear the hushed words of those trying to console her. The sea of somber faces on the subway crashes down on me. The sadness prevents me from looking anyone in the eye. The sirens… the wailings… the days of words not spoken… they are all so deafening… I feel myself becoming numb…

I wasn’t THERE either. I never made it to the city that day… but it seems that I never left.

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