Free Essays on Expressive Paper

A place I visited as a child was forced into my memory very recently. This place is known around the world as The World Trade Center of New York City. When news hit of the building’s destruction, vivid memories of my time atop the one hundred ten story building began to reform in my mind. Visualizations, sounds, sense of touch, and even emotional memories zipped through my head like a surge of electricity. It is as if I am there again. The wind struck my face as I stepped onto the roof of the World Trade Center. The air on the street level was hot, but the summer heat was not felt at the elevation of this rooftop. Immediately, the cold wind numbed my face, not from the temperature, but from the force in which the wind pressed on my skin. I walked to my left and placed my hand on the metal railing for support. The railing was cold, so cold that it seemed to affect the functioning of my arm. My entire body was cold now and I was only wearing a short sleeve t-shirt. As I stood on the building the only sound I could hear was of the wind bombarding my eardrum. My dad called me to another side of the roof, I followed. As I approached the railing I realized the wind was no longer blowing directly in my ear, and I began to hear sounds. The echoing of car horns and vehicle motors rose from the street with an enormous rumble. Although I was one hundred and ten stories high, I could hear the many sounds of the city that never sleeps. I peered over the railing and was awestruck by the view that lay in my path of sight, thousands of buildings that seemed to touch the sky. None of those buildings were as high as the Trade Center. Millions of tiny black squares were spotted on the sides of the buildings like holes in a termite mound. It was then that I realized the complexity and quantity of life in New York City. From this height, I could see mi... Free Essays on Expressive Paper Free Essays on Expressive Paper A place I visited as a child was forced into my memory very recently. This place is known around the world as The World Trade Center of New York City. When news hit of the building’s destruction, vivid memories of my time atop the one hundred ten story building began to reform in my mind. Visualizations, sounds, sense of touch, and even emotional memories zipped through my head like a surge of electricity. It is as if I am there again. The wind struck my face as I stepped onto the roof of the World Trade Center. The air on the street level was hot, but the summer heat was not felt at the elevation of this rooftop. Immediately, the cold wind numbed my face, not from the temperature, but from the force in which the wind pressed on my skin. I walked to my left and placed my hand on the metal railing for support. The railing was cold, so cold that it seemed to affect the functioning of my arm. My entire body was cold now and I was only wearing a short sleeve t-shirt. As I stood on the building the only sound I could hear was of the wind bombarding my eardrum. My dad called me to another side of the roof, I followed. As I approached the railing I realized the wind was no longer blowing directly in my ear, and I began to hear sounds. The echoing of car horns and vehicle motors rose from the street with an enormous rumble. Although I was one hundred and ten stories high, I could hear the many sounds of the city that never sleeps. I peered over the railing and was awestruck by the view that lay in my path of sight, thousands of buildings that seemed to touch the sky. None of those buildings were as high as the Trade Center. Millions of tiny black squares were spotted on the sides of the buildings like holes in a termite mound. It was then that I realized the complexity and quantity of life in New York City. From this height, I could see mi...