9/11

September 11th creeps in under my radar and punches me in the solar plexus every year. Fifteen years ago, on a crystal clear morning in Austin, TX, I was dressing for work when the phone rang: “Turn on your TV,” said my friend. Within seconds, my jaw froze, my chest tightened, and my eyes burned. Then I joined the millions who wept loudly, feeling that wind and smoke scrape our veins.