9/11 Short Stories

Chris had a stern yet confused look on his face “Yeah, I mean isn’t this great? I finally found something for myself. This has been my lifelong dream, haven’t I told you? I mean I’m fast, I’m strong-”

“But that still doesn’t answer my question as to how you knew that wasn’t my mother?” said Jack. “She was there, at my door, in plain sight!”

figures dart between the devastating ruins of the condemned buildings; they weave in and out crossing the darkened rain-watered streets avoiding the searching spotlight. Hiding in collapsing doorways and the war-torn wreckage abandoned by the many that perished trying to defend them. Working hard to blend with the deteriorating walls and the half-standing shells of the concrete rubble, They use the many trash-filled alleys as their temporary cover. Mindful that the German snipers scan the area for any would-be terrorists, they keep a watchful eye on the rooftops. Michelle decides, in this case, there is not strength in numbers. “We must separate,” she mentions,

“Not good,” he replied softly, before sipping his coffee. “We had the same experience, she said nothing to us, showed no interest in anything…what about drugs?”

"I suppose the boy's got a point," Arthur said. "Look at the pup's li’l legs. Something like that is useless in here."

Amidst the swirling ripple of faceless people meandering around fire hydrants, pedestrian signs, and ragged newspaper stands, he stood; embedded within the relentless stream of continuous people trickling by him. The occasional nudge threatened to dislodge his balance as he gazed across the road where two buildings laden by carmine shaded bricks separated. The same two buildings he walked directly pass early in the dewy morning and late in the brisk evening weather everyday for the past two decades. Surely he knew every wondering power line and dimly lit alley of the surrounding neighborhood? Yet something glimmered from in between the impossibly small gap separating the buildings. His conscious turned from thought to action as he leapt from the scuffed curb and into the high voltage current of traffic without a second

Dawn hummed the tune to the familiar intro. She carried the soda pop, sandwiches, potato chips, and other snacks from the dock’s gangplank to the deck of the boat as she sang…

As soon as Day opened the door smoke billowed in. She quickly adjusted her mask and closed the door. The smoke covered everything like a thick blanket. For a while the sun and the smoke had fought, but eventually the sun had succumbed to the smoke, like everything else. The only light now was electrical, but unlike the sun they weren’t bright and happy. The lights held no warmth and instead seemed to make the world colder. It hadn’t changed overnight. It was the same cold and dismal place. Day started towards the market. People scarcely walked the streets and instead rode in Machines. The machines had made the world like this, if you could even call it a world.

The sun shines through the small basement window of the house. It’s early morning beams piercing across the face of a young girl as she sleeps. It takes awhile for the brightness to penetrate her green eyes but when it does she stretches lazily under the covers closing those eyes for yet one more moment of dreams. She suddenly bolts upright as she remembers what today is.

“Uh, yeah- I guess you can say I enjoy a cup of coffee every once in awhile.” I try to casually laugh it off to no avail.

Hours later, Stanley finally opened his eyes, and looked around him. A rope was tied from under his wound to his waist, and was unbreakable for his condition. “What the..?” He said, confused.

“Listen, I’ll explain in a second. But, no one going to die, except maybe Glenjamin if it bleeds out- we can clean up the mess later, but right now…” Perrotin’s eyes widen as they lifted something off the ground using the platform ,”Guys, I found it.”

"It's not any of that low level academy training, I'll be your opponent this time around."

“What?” I asked. I could feel her waiting for me to say more, or even more so, to show some

“I’m still thinking about it, buddy.” Tyler replied back. “If I don’t know how to ride it, what’s the point of even buying one? I’ll just end up wasting more money.”