The Works

Where the Wind Blows My name is Drue Zehplihn. I don’t know why I’m telling you this because I highly doubt that you’ll ever remember me, even though, I’m about to change the world forever. Whether I’ll change it for better or worse, I really don’t know. All I know is that the world needs a change and now. The date is June thirteenth two thousand eleven. What I’m looking at is the concrete jungle of Manhattan. The sun glares off of the skyscrapers and the sky is cloudless. The vast blue stretches out past the Statue of Liberty that stands alone in the distance. Now that I think about, I shouldn’t be wearing a thin Hawaiian shirt and shorts up here. Although it’s around one hundred degrees on the streets below, it’s certainly cold on the roof of the Freedom Tower. The wind blows violently and unrestricted up here. It’s almost hard to keep my balance. My hair is blown out of my eyes to a landscape even a master artisan could not capture. Fires have simultaneously broken out among the city streets. Yet there is no panic, no casualties, and no violence. Everyone is working together to save what they love, just as I think it should be. Why I’m doing what I’m doing, I have no idea; it’s just something that I have to do. The door to the platform on which I’m standing burst open and a shrill and saddened voice cries out to me, “Drue! Stop this!”