Deja Vu Is a Gate: A Reflection on 9/11
“I hope there isn’t another one of these that the new generation has to witness. I won’t hold my breath.”
The temp agency finally came through for me.
My aunt’s connection with the staffing agency helped me land my second job at the ripe age of 19. I held the goggles in my hand and in my other hand, my new dark blue smock; next to me on the floor were the work boots that were tanned, old, and worn but fit for making money.
It was September 11th, 2001 and even though I was talking my father’s ears off about random topics: how the world will be forever stunned by Aaliyah’s death the previous month, and my excitement about a job paying me nearly $400 every week cleaning up a large building, I heard no response.
Now, usually, my father will at least respond to my rambling by saying, “Erica. Chill.” But this day, he stared straight ahead at the television set.
It took me a few seconds to comprehend the visuals.
My brain could not quite fix this…
Bright, crystal blue sky- a beautiful day.
Airplane flows like a stream(like a slow sailing bomb), and crashes into a tall, pillar of society.
