DISCLAIMER: they don't belong to me
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i'm writing this on tuesday, september 11, 2001. i live in NYC and outside my window i can still see smoke billowing to the sky. i can't believe it, but it happened, and so here goes. oh yeah, and the times given are just a guide -- each section takes up no more than ten minutes of time, which at some point covers the given time. hope i didn't confuse ya.
The Morning the Skyline Changed
by kaydee falls
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8:45 AM
Joanne was probably the only one of her friends who was actually fully awake at that hour. For her, the workday started at 8 AM, sometimes even earlier. How else could she leave the office in time to help Maureen on her mad escapades? Normally, she made the sacrifice willingly.
She stared wistfully out her window. It gave her a clear vista of Sixth Avenue, heading south. Unless it was pouring rain, she could see the Twin Towers from here. Pouring rain it was not. On the contrary, it was perfect outside. Warm, clear, sunny. What the hell was she doing in her office?!
Dreamily, Joanne pictured Washington Square Park, only a few blocks from the office. She thought of the green trees, the warm air, the cute joggers....
No. Not for her. Not now. Maybe she would step out for lunch. But right now, it was time to work. Work, work, work.
What harm could it do to open the window? No harm at all.
God, she wanted to go outside. She gazed up at the smooth blue sky, hardly a cloud in sight. The sun wasn't so high yet, she should get out now, before the oppressive heat of noon bore down.
Oh, hell, she just wanted out!
An airplane cut its way across the perfect sky. Take me with you! the rebellious part of Joanne's mind cried.
Joanne shook her head firmly. None of that! Work. Work, work, work. To accent her point, she slammed the window shut and pulled the shade down, turning up the radio. Work.
* * * * *
Collins jerked himself awake. It is always wise to be fully conscious when the train you're on approaches your stop, and apparently his unconscious realized this fact in the nick of time. Muttering curses at the indecent hour of his interview, he jumped out of the subway car just before the doors closed.
He glanced at his watch. Perfect. A little more than fifteen minutes before he had to be at Stuyvesant high school, several blocks away from the train station. Just enough time to enjoy the stroll down the city streets. It really was a pity that he'd scheduled this interview before noon, but it was the only slot Stuy's administration had allotted him. And, he admitted to himself, although a job as a substitute teacher at a high school isn't exactly my first choice, the extra cash will come in handy. One couldn't depend on rewired ATMs forever.
The stark chill of the air conditioning startled the remaining sleepiness away, as he emerged from the subway into the lobby of the World Trade Center. Even at this relatively early hour the Center was bustling, with men and women in business suits dashing back and forth, chattering on cell phones, and even an early bird group of tourists gawking at the high ceiling and marble floors. Collins chuckled a little as he darted around them. They ain't seen nothing yet, he thought. Wait until they get to the top!
Outside, the air was warm and a little humid. It was a gorgeous day, more reminiscent of summer than September. Making his way across the plaza, he glanced up at the clear blue sky. The high whine of a jet mingled with the blaring horns of traffic. Collins glanced at the plane, lazily following its course across the sky.
It occurred to him that that plane was coming in way too close.
He heard the crash, the roaring thunder, as the jet flew straight into one of the Twin Towers. Instinctively, he jumped back the way he had come, where there would be an overhang to protect his head. He could already see bits of debris leaping, and he had no illusions as to where they would be coming down.
Belatedly, he realized that entering the building might not be such a hot idea, but it was too late to find a new shelter.
Collins was lucky. The fire caused by the crash remained isolated to the higher floors, and after the initial rain of rubble, he could emerge cautiously. Surveying the plaza, it was hard to contain his dismay. The dust had hardly begun to settle, but already he could see people, scattered across the ground. A few, like himself, had been relatively protected. Many had not.
An ambulance siren blared in the background, rapidly coming closer. With a rueful sigh, Collins realized that he'd better try to help these people, and forcibly shoved any thoughts of interviews or common sense out of his head. He glanced up at the massive building.
It was singularly disconcerting to see a gaping hole in the Twin Tower. Black smoke billowed upwards, almost concealing the orange glimmer within.
With a distant, detached corner of his mind, Collins acknowledged that something had just gone horribly wrong.
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