Lightning Crashes streams in on YouTube while the bus stalls in traffic. Students and men in suits and the girl with the poster board sitting across from me like it’s just another day.
Images and prayers and Every man’s story of this day fill the scrolling pages in 140 characters or less and I wonder if I will cry when I hear the words… “I can feel it…”
The driver jerks to a stop and I am blinded by the sunlight through the windshield. Rain soaked stains, 3 degrees above freezing.
There is a man with a smile sitting on the ledge in the little corner window at the station. Two little black girls with pig tails are waiting at the escalator… and the father in me smiles when I pass.
Trains and morning flickers passing glass towers and that day in New York City, JFK, flying west without you…
Love songs and stories, memories and reminders, grey blue and black and white… born on 911.
Postscript… I saw a story about a man, much like any one of ten million stories I imagine and I wondered who was born just then?