When Words Fail

I’m a writer. Words are kind of my thing.

There isn’t really anything that I can’t turn into a story (or a darkly humorous joke, for that matter.)

Except today.

13 years ago, we endured a devastating tragedy. The world was robbed of so many lives due to the hatred of a few evil people. America has never really recovered from 9/11, but I do not think the world has, either. I know that I haven’t, and it will continue to haunt me for the next 13 years and the next 13 after that…

You see, words are failing me. There is not much I can say that can sum up the events of that day. Even a decade and some later. At the age I was, I could not comprehend what was happening when it occurred, and even at the age I am now, I cannot seem to wrap my head around any part of it.

All I know is that I am still amazed at the sheer violence of it all. And I am also in awe when I hear about the valiant efforts of (extra)ordinary citizens who ran toward the danger instead of away from it that day.

In honor of the lives that history must never forget, I will end it here. As I’ve mentioned before, the world is too inundated by words. And what we really need now is some peace (and quiet.)

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