Two, short, fictional accounts of 9/11/2001 based on stories heard, seen and read.
Estella
Flame pushes me to the jagged edge of concrete and metal. Light and sky the siren’s call to a leap of unspeakable surrender. My beautiful daughters, my husband, the mountains and plains of my childhood in El Salvador rush forward in glorious detail. Suspended between heaven and earth; a vacuum of sound, but one voice: “I love you, my child.” My heart and brain register my descent with unconsciousness—God’s mercy.
Linda
I run in slow motion-still wearing 3-inch heels-for thirty blocks before falling to my knees. People brush hard against me as they retreat from the stampede of swirling dust. One man stops with a ridiculous question: “Are you okay, lady?” He guides me to a threshold where we lean against hard, cold marble until the choking cloud engulfs us. The stranger and I cling to each other like ghostly lovers.
R.I.P.