THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE FALLS

The river flows black in the night.
People jostle me to stand by the railing.
I first see the colors.
Hot glows of red, orange, yellow.
Then I hear the explosion.
Loud and deafening. 
My ears begin to ring.
The bridge is in flames.
The beautiful Brooklyn Bridge.
Pieces of metal land in the water.
Cries fill the cold air.
How did I get here?
The crowd pushes away from the bleak scene.
I’m lost in the midst of the throng.
It moves like one.
With one mind and purpose.
To seek shelter from the raining pieces.
Once we reach the buildings,
The crowd spreads out like ants.
Someone takes my hand and pulls me.
We check out the first building.
The metal door is locked and bolted.
So is each door we check.
Finally, we find an open door.
Sounds of sirens follow us inside.
The door shuts behind us.
We seem to be in a parking lot.
Who am I with?
I look up and can’t see his face.
He grunts and pulls me down the ramp.
I dig in my feet.
I refuse to follow him.
I must see his face.
He turns to me…
I wake up.
It was a terrible dream.
But I still wonder
What his face looked like.

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