I thought about the passengers whose lives were taken away by force on the planes in New York, Washington, D. C., and Pittsburgh. I couldn’t stop thinking about the innocent people who were killed while they were working at the towers and the Pentagon, knowing nothing. What were they thinking? What were they thinking about when they woke up that morning, when they were boarding the plane, when they were going to work? What were they planning to do for the rest of their lives? I started talking to them. Every day-every single day-I talked to them. They entered my dreams. They talked about themselves. They not only answered my questions, they also told me about anything they wanted me to know. I was so impressed. They became my one and only focus of attention, every second. I had my pencil and attempted to write with great confidence and great willingness, and I completed these stories in about seven months. Many photographs that remained in my mind from my hundreds of dreams were the starting points of my stories. I lived all of those unbelievable pains with those nice people during those seven months.
