Found

• Kiara Gashi, Grade 5, St Marys Primary School
• Short Story
• 2009

Finalist in the 'Xtreme Read 2009' competition

As the dark-haired man stepped down into the subway, he wished he could be elsewhere. Paul desperately wanted to be there for his daughter’s fourth birthday. He approached the rusted subway train and sat down next to a broad-shouldered man wearing brown leather gear and a helmet tucked under his arm. “Good day for flying” he grunted to the middle-eastern man sitting beside him. Paul detested flying of any sort. On the rare occasion that he boarded an aircraft, he constantly fretted about the numerous possibilities for disaster. Earlier that very day a flight from Boston had headed off course.

When he arrived at his destination, Paul exited the subway station and inhaled the smoky, polluted air of his home city. Paul reluctantly marched onwards towards the skyscraper that was his workplace. As he entered the elevator and selected the ninth floor he regretted leaving his home that morning. He had promised his daughter the most spectacular day of her life but that idea was in great jeopardy.

When the silver, steel-lined doors opened to reveal the corporate life, Paul wondered what it would be like to earn a living in the great outdoors. He concluded that one day he would revert to that ambition. He headed towards room eleven and entered abruptly, startling his secretary who turned around, notifying Paul that he had been assigned extra work, at the request of the chief executive officer.

Paul seriously wondered whether he would ever see his daughter again as he sat down in his leather swivel chair and began to fill out a variety of forms. ‘Name: Paul Henderson’ followed by ‘Date:’. Paul asked his secretary for the date and wondered for a moment how he could have possibly forgotten the date, since it was his own daughter’s birthday; but recently, there had been no days and dates for Paul, only workdays and weekends. His cynical thoughts were disrupted by the wafting smell of peppermint floating from the office beside his own.

In need of a break, Paul headed towards the window and looked out upon the vast never-ending wilderness of the city. He squinted as he stared out into the bright morning light as something caught his wandering eye. He was staring at an aircraft heading towards him. As the aircraft drew closer Paul was beginning to get anxious. The voice of his secretary awoke him from his daze, “The eleventh of September”. Paul returned his to his nervous gaze and responded, “Sorry?” The aircraft came even closer and Paul was shaking. “You asked the date,” his secretary responded. “9/11”.