fictitious

sometimes, i write things. these things are sometimes like stories. and, sometimes not. go for it.

t.o.c.
+PENN STATION
+N.10.YRS

+PENN STATION+

We started innocently enough. It was our nature to be open. We had to be to learn and grow.

Sometime, and I don't know when, we changed. Got excited and forgot something. We're an excitable bunch and when something works, we want it to work harder.

I pretend someday that we'll remember. Things will slow and we'll welcome our comfortable place. We'll reflect and watch, waiting for the evolution we ignited to fade.
------------
+N.10.YRS+

In ten years, when shops explode, innocent people will still be victims. Flowers will still be laid by family members and loved ones. Strangers will still express remorse, but empathy will find it has been replaced by its weaker cousin, sympathy. Flags will not fly at half mast; if so, they would...perpetually. Headlines will be replaced by bylines. Monuments, with boarded windows.

It will be wrong to say we grew hard, or callous. Like everything else, we evolved.

post:
just a quick note...this is not a post apocalyptic thought. it was inspired by hope while walking through the streets of nyc. we're lucky events like 9/11 are so rare that they can be given the memory and attention they deserve. there are places, where terror is so prevalent, such honor is a luxury. let's hope we find an alternative path.