9/11 Short Stories

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Beams of sunlight shone through the sheer curtains flooding the room with light. I’d woken up before the alarm, a rarity. Shoving back the gray comforter I stumble out of bed. Staring at the blue walls I flop down on the bed again. “You’re finally up.” Sticking his head of the bathroom, Sebastian smiled, “I thought you’d lay there the entire day” “That sounds like a good idea actually,” I mumble, “It’s too early to be up.” “Honey,” “Mmmm, yes dear?” “It’s nine thirty.” That gets my attention, I run into the bathroom, grabbing the hair brush. “Shit Seb, shit! I have to be at work at eleven and drop the kids off at the babysitter’s beforehand. Shit! Why didn’t you wake me?” I attack a knot of hair with a comb, silently cursing myself. Sebastian…show more content…
Striding into the kitchen I throw open the cabinets, throwing bread into the toaster, cracking eggs into a bowl. Standing over the frying pan I listen to the stomping of tiny feet running down stairs, it grows louder and louder until the kitchen is overrun by my kids. Amelia, hops up on the stools near the counter, whining about breakfast. While her brothers Josh and Michael argue over who gets the window seat at the kitchen table. Their voices rises higher and higher until my skull feels like it’s about to split…show more content…
Muffling the sounds of pedestrians shoes pounding against the concrete, a human tide of people heading to their jobs and commitments. I stroll down the sidewalk, coffee in hand. The smell of fall rises up around me, the scent of early morning frost and pumpkin flavored goodies seems to hang in the air. The kids are at the babysitter’s and I’m on time for work. I march up the stairs to the rehab center, ready to order around people who are years ahead of me. Working with the elderly is hard enough, but it’s even harder when they’re in rehab. I now live in fear of old women with broken hips. The front desk is quiet when I walk in. A few patients have early morning sessions but the place doesn’t really start moving until later in the day. Right now the only sound is the hum of the florescent light bulbs. and the sounds of shoes against the tile floor. Moving, into the main room I flip open my laptop, examining my first patient's file. Thomas Raymond. Great. Raymond had only been here a few days, yet his reputation is for being as stubborn as a mule has spread through this place like a wildfire. This was going to be an amazing

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