• I sat there at my desk, thinking what to do.
    I Looked out the window and I saw the horrid view.
    The bird that soared so high above sank deep into my eyes.
    I looked at my last moment while heaving one last sigh.

    No one saw it coming. No one really knew.
    No one even had the time to say “What the heck should we do?”
    No. It just happens like that. You have no more time, no time to think of death.
    Not even enough time to say “I’m sorry” in your last breath.
    I could see those men’s eyes, closer and closer, holding those prayer beads twined.
    Praying and hoping that they were doing what God had in mind.
    I heard the glass break, in slow motion, though.
    I was fully aware, however, of this final blow.

    “My country will not like this” I thought so quickly as a flash.
    “For all I know, my aunt in Georgia might even hear this smash.”
    Time had frozen. It stood just so still.
    I remember what my mother said ‘bout people who kill.
    “They don’t always plan it,” my mom would always say.
    “But when in heaven, oh, they know they have to pay.”

    I also remember that morning, as I left at 5 o’clock.
    my husband lying in our bed, sleeping like a rock.
    “I love you.” I murmured, and kissed his head.
    For I was so glad this was the man I wed.
    I crept into my daughter’s room, quiet as a mouse.
    And I kissed her head as well, but softer than my spouse.
    Her mouth slid into a smile and she whispered “Tuck me in?”
    The way she said it so gently, it made my mind spin.

    I could not wait to get home, and see my family again.
    So as each useless minute passed, I sat there clicking my poor pen.
    It was 8:00 when I went to early break.
    It was 46 minutes before that fatal take.
    Looked up at the sky, and the sky was just so blue.
    It was the bluest it had ever been, the clearest I ever knew.
    I took out my phone, dialed the number, and heard the telephone ring.
    After 3 times, I heard his voice, it was glad enough to sing.
    “I’m so glad you called,” he said. “I miss you very much.”
    “I miss you too, and I long to have your darkened hands to touch.”
    “Your daughter wishes to speak to you, my dear one.”
    So he handed her the phone and told her he was done.
    “Mommy?” I heard her say, a hopeful tone in her voice.
    “I’m here, honey,” I said. But then my phone made that noise.
    It hit me then, that strange thing called “the light”.
    Because it seemed that I forgot to charge my phone last night.
    I yelled at my phone, wanting to smash the foolish jerk.
    But I realized that I had to go back to what I called “work”.
    So with a heavy heart, I returned to my duty.
    Noticing that the clock had read 8:30.
    “Sixteen minutes to go,” I think now, wishing to stop it all.
    Wishing to stop the torches, the towers’ enormous fall.

    I continued dealing with the people, from all corners of the world.
    And I never got the chance to think about my little girl.
    It was 8:45, right on the dime. Sixty seconds to go.
    Then I would have to leave every person that I both love and know.

    In the middle of my conversation with a salesman from Spain,
    I noticed a loud hum, coming from that plane.
    And so I sat there at my desk, thinking what to do.
    I Looked out the window and I saw that horrid, horrid view.