What a Beautiful World

After checking in at the Double Tree Hotel, Broadway, New York, I was anxious to visit the Ground Zero where the famous Twin Towers, the American icons of economic prosperity had once stood majestically. The investment bank staff of over 700 I was dealing with perished in the attack. This tragedy hit me like a bombshell. As I reached at the ground Zero suddenly I saw around the corner a lanky figure, swaying like a candle flame flickering in wind. He was holding an open file in one hand, muttering incoherently, making gurgling sounds and shooting aimlessly at the sky with fingers. I was stunned; he was Chris, my friend. His face was gaunt, eyes sunken and he was vaguely searching something in the sky above him. How Chris became a victim of this tragedy began to haunt me. We had met each other at the Heathrow Airport, before I immigrated to New Zealand nine years earlier. Frozen and saddened, still gazing at him, I slowly started to move away, determined to find the truth behind this.