The morning of September eleventh began like any other I woke before sunrise made coffee checked the futures markets calm steady nothing unusual I remember the quiet the way the light came through the blinds the way my tie wouldn’t sit straight I left my apartment early because traffic was light the sky that kind of impossible blue you only get a few times a year in New York it didn’t look like a day the world would change

I was walking toward the office when I heard the first noise not loud exactly just wrong a deep vibration that made people stop mid step we all turned toward downtown the smoke rising black against the blue sky it didn’t make sense none of it did at first someone said plane accident someone else said small jet we stood there watching until the second one hit then the world tilted the sound heavy enough to split the air

I don’t remember how long I stood there maybe minutes maybe hours time dissolved into dust and sirens everyone moving but no one knowing where to go I started walking south without thinking the streets filling with people covered in gray ash like ghosts running from something they couldn’t see I saw a man fall to his knees crying into his phone I saw a woman clutching a briefcase like it was her child

By the time I reached the river the towers were gone just smoke and silence broken by distant alarms I sat on the curb covered in dust not thinking just breathing because it felt like the only thing left to do

For weeks after everything felt hollow the markets closed the city quiet like a body holding its breath the air smelled of metal and grief I went back to work when they reopened because that’s what we do we keep moving the screens flickered alive again as if nothing happened but we all moved slower spoke softer

Julia called said she’d seen it on the news said she was glad I was alive her voice cracked and for a second I almost cried but didn’t I told her I was fine I wasn’t

The firm shifted focus after that risk was back in style fear sells better than greed we started trading defense stocks insurance gold anything that looked like safety the irony not lost on any of us we made money on fear and called it recovery

My father called every night that month said he couldn’t sleep kept the TV on all the time said the city looked like a wounded animal I told him it would heal he said maybe but you don’t sound sure I said because I’m not

By two thousand three the world was different tighter more anxious wars starting oil spiking volatility back the adrenaline returning and with it the noise I watched the markets rise again fueled by promises and low interest rates the government flooding the system with cheap money and everyone pretending it was wisdom I pretended too

I was forty now older than I ever thought I’d be still chasing numbers like they were answers the new traders younger sharper all energy and caffeine I trained them told them stories of crashes like they were legends some listened most didn’t they thought the past was ancient history it never is

One of them a kid named Leon reminded me of myself hungry reckless said he wanted to be rich by thirty I told him that’s not hard staying human after is the trick he laughed said that sounded like something losers say I laughed too because once I would have said the same

Julia came to visit that year she said the city felt heavier I said it always does she said you look tired I said I’m fine she said you’ve been saying that for twenty years I didn’t argue she asked why I stayed I said because I don’t know where else to go she nodded like she finally understood or maybe gave up trying

That winter I stood by my office window watching the snow fall over the river the lights reflecting off the ice below and thought about everything the towers the crashes the people gone the markets still alive and I realized the market doesn’t mourn it just adapts it absorbs tragedy the way it absorbs everything and keeps moving

I envied that in a way I also hated it

When I turned off the lights and walked out that night the city was quiet again and I wondered how many times a place can break and still rebuild how many times a man can do the same before the pieces stop fitting back together