I was in a hotel room standing at the window which overlooked the busy street. It was 3:00 am and there wasn't a car on the road. I was up on the fourth floor and was very much alone since I had been traveling on business.
Across the street from me was an empty post office. It was brightly lit, and I could see the rows of postal boxes. I stared out the window, unable to sleep. I had been up since 8:00 the previous morning, and was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep nonetheless.
From out of the darkness came a lone figure. He had parked his little red car in one of the parking spots in front of the post office, and was entering the building. I watched from my window, curious as to why someone would be checking his mailbox at 3:00 am. He had a backpack which he carried in front of him, both arms crossing his chest, the backpack snuggly between them. I couldn't see him at all, just a figure of a man. He was inside the building now, and he was acting strangely. He was pacing, back and forth, several times over the length of the small post office. My heart began to race, my anxiety rising with each breath I took. I became alarmed, frightened. He dropped his backpack on a chair in the lobby of the post office, and stood there for a few moments, just looking at it. Then he quickly exited the building, leaving his car right where he left it.
Oh my God! What should I do? Becoming hysterical now, I thought about calling the police. But that seemed a little like overkill. I mean, maybe he would be back in a few minutes. I was frantic and began to pace myself. He could come back, right? He just went to find a bathroom, right? He’ll be back, right? I picked up the phone to call the front desk, but what would I say? What would they do? So I waited, and watched over that car and that backpack for three hours, until the sun came up. I went to the coffeemaker and brewed myself a cup of coffee, and turned on the news. I heard the sirens on the television and on the street, making it all seem so surreal. Should I have called the police? Should I have sounded the alarm?
I went back over to the window and watched the street begin to come alive. Still no cars on the road but people were beginning to stir. An old woman pulling a cart behind her, a man out walking his dog, a jogger, a woman with a stroller. They all walked by the post office and the little red car, not giving either a second look.
Soon the police came. They seemed to be interested in the little red car. They found the backpack and more police came. A tow truck arrived and took the red car away. The police stayed for a long time. Were they looking for anyone? Should I tell them what I saw? Did I do a terrible thing by not calling them?
I sat on the bed to watch the news some more, still hearing the sirens in the distance as well as on my television. I saw the live streaming video on CNN of the smoke rising in the air, and I smelled its acrid, unmistakable odor. I could see it from my windwo, it looked smaller on tv. In fact, even the wounded Pentagon itself, from where I could see it, looked larger in real life.
It was September 12, 2001 and I was in a hotel room.
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