Expressive Paper

Expressive Paper

A place I visited as a child was forced into my memory very recently.

This place is known around the world as The World Trade Center of New

York City. When news hit of the building?s destruction, vivid memories of

my time atop the one hundred ten story building began to reform in my

mind. Visualizations, sounds, sense of touch, and even emotional memories

zipped through my head like a surge of electricity. It is as if I am there

again.

The wind struck my face as I stepped onto the roof of the World Trade

Center. The air on the street level was hot, but the summer heat was not felt

at the elevation of this rooftop. Immediately, the cold wind numbed my face,

not from the temperature, but from the force in which the wind pressed on

my skin. I walked to my left and placed my hand on the metal railing for

support. The railing was cold, so cold that it seemed to affect the

functioning of my arm. My entire body was cold now and I was only

wearing a short sleeve t-shirt.

As I stood on the building the only sound I could hear was of the

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