Innocence Lost
Thursday, February 28, 2008
She awoke that morning, just as she would on any other - the southern exposure allowing the beautiful streams of fall sunlight to shine in. She had prime Manhattan real-estate...southern exposure and a half block from the park. So what if that southern exposure came through a single window which led to a fire escape which made the size of her miniscule apartment exponentially bigger? She was in Manhattan with a place on the Upper West Side. Plus, she had high ceilings.
Still half asleep, she climbed down from her lofted bed and shuffled over to her radio to turn on NPR - the first ritual of her morning routine. She never really considered the fact that she was just about to get in the shower so there was really no need to turn the radio on until after as the words would go unheard. This was her routine. It was just the way she did things. She directed the toothbrush toward her mouth, demanding the minty-fresh feeling to help her rise and shine. She stuck one foot in the shower as she gave her final spit into the sink. The two were close enough together that this posed absolutely no problem at all.
She continued her morning routine, only occassionally bumping into the stove which was directly across from her dresser as she opened and closed drawers, trying to figure out what to wear. It was pure coincidence that she wore flats on this day. Most days she could be found strutting the streets of Manhattan in 3 inch heels. She may have chosen differently had she known the number this would later do to her knees. Or she may have chosen exactly the same. But on that particular morning, she had a new pair of tan leather slides calling her name and she wanted to get a wearing or three in before the weather turned cold.
As she slipped into her new slides and slid a fresh coat of gloss on her lips, her normal NPR morning edition was interrupted. She would have missed it had she still been in the shower. She may have missed it if she'd left just a minute earlier. But as she walked toward the radio to shut it off, confusion seemed to ensue on-air. There was an accident and no one was quite sure exactly what had happened. A plane had crashed or accidentally flown into the top of the World Trade Center. She froze as she listened to the words. A horrible accident they exclaimed. Not sure how this could happen. Accident, accident. Over and over they said the word accident. They reported that they had no more details at that time and they would update as they received them. And then, they returned to their regular broadcast. She stood still for a moment wondering how on earth a plane could fly into a building. But they were reporting an accident. A horrible accident indeed...
And then she picked up her bag and was on her way, out the door in her fresh new leather slides on a beautiful September day in Manhattan. She thought about the plane and the World Trade Center and this accident as she walked the block and a half cross town to catch the bus. She thought about it until she saw her bus on the block ahead and she broke into a slight jog in hopes of making the bus. With a smile on her face and the sun at her back, she bolted across the street, grateful for her flats, momentarily able to relish in the sun and the day. She had no idea she was relishing in her final moments of true innocence.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle at 4:04 PM
Labels: NYC, past, writing exercise
You know, I just realized that I don't think I have heard the story from someone who was actually a part of that day, living in the city....
I cannot even imagine.