Look up and see what's falling. Out of the clouds, the explosion already dispersing on the wind. It seemed almost to be in slow motion. So slow, it could almost be going backwards.

He glanced around and wondered if anyone else saw what he saw. The street went about it's business, as if nothing had happened. He wanted to scream, Look up and see what's falling, but he couldn't push the words from his throat.

The first box hit and exploded only a few feet from where he stood. And another and another again. Explosions all around him, thankfully none close enough to hit him. He knew he should take cover, but the surreality of him being the only one that noticed, that could see it, it seemed. It made no sense.

And then the people, falling all around him. It wasn't like what he imagined it would be, like when he read about 9/11, that horrible blue-skied morning. This can't be real, he thought again, as the people went past. They didn't hit, so much as evaporate. He wanted to close his eyes, but part of him knew he had to watch. He would have to tell about this, one day.

And then the flash. And then the bang. His heart in his throat. He saw the plane rushing towards him. He was there too. It was like he was in it, under it. The moment had come. Welcome back, it said.

And then the door closed and it was silent. Black and dark. Quiet. Now what, he wondered.