2001-10-20 - 10:44 a.m.

here's what I was thinking back in the day if yr interested, sorry for the inconsistent updates...

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As hijackers direct airplanes into buildings, I am slowly waking up. I hit the snooze once, twice, and then roll over and it�s 7:35. I should get up.

I throw the covers off of me and put on my slippers. I stretch and wander into the kitchen. My old kettle, with no lid to whistle any more, is waiting for me on the stove. I fill it with water and turn on the burner.

I peruse the list of breakfast options � no waffles, cereal running low, but still a few bagels left. An airplane full of people hits the World Trade Center; I slice open a bagel and throw it in the oven broiler to be toasted. I�m glad we�ve gotten the oven fixed.

The kettle makes the low rumbling noise to signal it is ready. Scoop of instant coffee, scoop of sugar, scoop of creamer. I pour in the piping water and take a sip. Artificial but tasty. I�m not above artificial coffee. One cup of brewed coffee never works out right. I take out by bagel and dollop some nice cream cheese on it. I sit down eat from my seat by the window.

I like mornings. I like having the time to enjoy my mornings, not just rush around for my clothes and sprint out the door. I like to look out my window as I munch on my bagel and wonder what the day will bring. Another day of work, two more weeks perhaps, I can handle it. And then freedom, freedom just like always, who knows what. I look down. People hustle along the sidewalk, trucks rumble down the street. A sweet hazy September morning.

I get up to put away my breakfast, and another airplane hits the World Trade Center, dozens dead, thousands trapped. I�ll leave this plate and cup in the sink for now, worry about it after work.

I sit down to my computer and fiddle with my words. Such a long list of words, running into infinity, into nothing, to no end. But they keep me going, the words do. I review them once more before the sun gets too high, shining on my screen and making it difficult to read.

But the day is getting on and they will be expecting me at work. I throw my books and food into my bag, this silly old black bag, and burst out into the morning haze, as a third airplane full of people slams into the Pentagon and engulfs it in flames. It�s a morning like any other, a morning in the history of young America, where we climb our steps to our little subway trains, and we sit na�ve waiting for the day to come, for the day to begin again.

I sit on my bench and survey my little neighborhood that I�ve grown to know and absorb, and listen to these voices on the radio I�ve grown to know so well, this guy chattering on about how, you know, there really is no Social Security lockbox. It�s a myth that is perpetuated by the Republicans, or is it the Democrats, blah blah blah, until the voice is suddenly quieted and another voice chimes in, hurriedly, �Sorry to interrupt��

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And then it�s all what? What is this? Airplanes crashing into buildings? This is all very comical hah hah, you mean like one of those little rocky and bullwinkle airplanes grazed its wing, right? What? Come again? Two airplanes? Three? The Pentagon? What? You mean the World Trade Center just collapsed just now, while I was waiting for this train? You mean a little chunk of it fell down? More airplanes missing, this is truly extraordinary, this is bizarre, this is, no, it�s too horrible, it�s exciting, it�s strange, I don�t understand.

Weird. That�s all I can think as I sit there and listen. They say the Sears Tower, which I can see in the distance beyond the train tracks to the south, has been evacuated. What, so now they�re telling me that airplanes can crash into buildings? This is an actual concern? I wait for the even-keeled radio man to chuckle, say it�s just a practical joker, no need to worry. Someone will have to come on and explain this thing away like everything can be explained away, because this is just too weird.

I take my seat on the train and try to figure out what to think, what to do. I want to call out to all the other people on the train and say, �Did you hear this, about airplanes crashing into buildings?� But something stops me. The two girls behind me, just barely teenagers, are goofing and joking. I don�t want to spoil their morning, they�ll find out soon enough. They might as well have a few more minutes of ignorance; I guess this changes everything. So I just look out the window, put on a concerned expression and just think, weird. Crazy.

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