Tuesday, September 11th, 2001

02

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Walking through the flooded streets, flooded with people at least, of New York City on a Tuesday morning at 8:15 A.M. was agitating to say the absolute least.

Doing so, headed to work for 8:30, after an argument with my fianceé is upsetting.

I just wanted to get to work and call her in a quiet place.

I walked through the streets of southern Manhatten to join my coworkers in the south tower of the WTC, the only difference to this morning and every other Tuesday morning, being that argument weighing heavily on my conscious.

I wish I hadn't said so many hurtful things, I know I'm wrong and I'm being supremely selfish, I just..... I love her and after three years I don't know as much about her as I should. She doesn't know as much about me as she should.

I just want to know the woman I'm marrying before we say I do.

I don't want her to quit her job, but as she put the thought in my head, I hesitated and it was a mistake. I never want to ask that of her.

I reach the entrance of the building at 8:27, before heading up to the 64th floor.

I exited the elevator, heading to my section of the office.

I spotted Maria at her desk working. She smiled and waved at me before going back to filing documents.

I nodded my head in greeting before going to the time clock and punching in my time at Just as I sat in my desk, I heard the door to our office open.

I turned and saw my best friend, and coworker, Micheal.

He smirked, which is his way of smiling, at me before clocking in. I returned it with a weak smile. He came over to me and had a concerned glint in his eyes.

"What's up, Jas? You don't seem near as peppy as usual today," he asked, concerned that I didn't have my usual morning person, bubbly personality.

"Just dealing with some stuff at home," I explained, not wanting to go into detail.

"Oh, trouble in paradise, eh? What happened, brother?" He asked, understanding what I meant, and his Canadian heritage showing.

"I was just being an arse over something small because I'm an idiot," I explained, my accent showing a tiny bit.

"Well then call her and apologize," He said like it was that simple.

"She's at work, and I don't want to catch her at a bad time, even though she did tell me to call her," I mumble the last part, worrying about being a burden or bothering her.

"Bud, I know you have an inferiority complex, but this is kind of a conversation that could save your soon-to-be marriage, you should make it," he said, shaking his head at me.

"I just, I don't know, " I answer, still thinking about how I shouldn't bother her, and that me calling would only get in the way of her day.

"Fine, man, you do whatever you want to do, but I really think it would be in your best interest to call her right now," he said, backing off knowing that I'm stubborn as hell.

He walks over to sit at his own desk and I get this morning's work from my inbox for paperwork, setting it on my desk, grabbing one piece of paper and a pen.

As I go to place the pen on the paper, and start filling it out, a loud air-like noise sounds. We all look up in alarm, looking to each other, before standing and filing over to the window.

We move the blinds back, but before we can see anything the ground seems to shake and we all have to catch ourselves to not fall.

As we look back out of the window, all we see in a giant explosion, and debris starts falling, fire and smoke pouring out of the upper floors and windows of the other tower.