A Night (and Morning) to Remember

Tommy was twisting one of my nipples softly and we shared a cigarette, watching TV. There was a bulletin, and Tommy grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

It was showing film of one of the World Trade Center buildings, a big gash in the side with thick black smoke billowing out. Tommy laughed and said it was a miracle it hadn't happened long before now, since those buildings are so tall.

Tommy was lighting another cigarette when I saw the second plane hit the tower, and he almost dropped it on me. "Shit!" he yelled, and I was scared. "This isn't an accident! They're going to knock down the towers!"

We sat curled up together, naked, and smoked two packs of cigarettes and drank a half case of beer as we watched the news all that day. Tommy held me when I cried, and explained things about what was happening that I didn't understand. I adore that boy, and practically worship his dick, but after this morning I really respect him.

They say that everyone will remember this day, and that it will define our generation. Well, what I did that night certainly broadened my horizons. They also say that the question everyone will ask is, "Where were you and what were you doing when the planes hit the World Trade Center?"

If you'll excuse me, I've got to go and think up a good lie so I don't have to say, "I was sitting in a stoner's apartment over his parent's garage with a dick up my ass for the first time."

Goodnight Journal!

Love,

Teri

(Thank you CopyCarver, for helping me to edit this entry!)