The old guy said he doesn’t get it. Well, no shit. A national tragedy. He said I’m weird, but naive. He asked if anyone I knew died and I took that question literally — no, I insisted. I stopped paying attention to what he did after that. First, it’s a beautiful morning on television with the weather report. Today, it’s clear skies. The New York skyline is pretty. Then I’m flying over it. It’s not safe to have two bodies in two different places at once. Don’t astral project 9/11 unless you’re ready. I couldn’t choose which body’s face he asks to ejaculate or piss or whatever on. Maybe I discovered a new kind of sleep paralysis. Yeah, sure, I mumbled, why not? Elsewhere, the first plane hits. Cloud moans and grabs a fistful of Link’s beautiful elf boy hair. Witnesses report they saw them through the chemical cloud, the way jet fuel lets the world burn. He would’ve liked that if He was there to see it.