The Fog Below the Towers
By: Josh Embry
*This is a fictionalized short story set in Manhattan before the official completion of the North and South Towers of the World Trade Center. The towers are a central element to the story and are featured prominently throughout. While no mentions, insinuations, or implications of the 9/11 attacks are in the following words, reader discretion is advised.*
Mr. Pervis Weisz sat opposite his wife, Helen, at their bleached circle-shaped kitchen table in their 400-square-foot apartment in Tribeca. He watched the blinds flap in and out of the shoulder-width wide window, the air misty and moist. The only view: the towers.
“Doubtless some rain is coming today, honey. Don’t forget your umbrella now,” Helen said, placing her hand on his. She recoiled at the coldness of his hands and furrowed her brow at him.
He nodded and gave a weak smile. Pervis sat his untouched eggs on the tiled floor and whistled for Bojo. He scratched her back ears, just the way she liked it, and put his head to hers before giving her one last back rub.
“I better be on my way,” he said, kissing his wife’s pale forehead and grabbing his suitcase. “It’s a long morning today.” With a foot out of the door he heard Helen screech back from her chair.
