“Unforgettable”
Priya Kanuru
There are some moments you never forget. Like when you go to Disney Land, or when you first bring home a puppy. Some memories are more serious, like your first funeral, or when you have to put your dog down. For me, it was September 11, 2001, Tuesday, 8:45 a.m.
I was in junior high. Everyday, I walked to school with my best friend, Muhammed
Abboud. Muhammed’s family immigrated here to New York when he was only one. We’ve been friends since pre-school.
“How’s the coffee shop, Martha?” Muhammed asked. My parents owned Hopkin’s Coffee
Shop. I shrugged my signature shrug. Same question every time, same answer every time.
Business was slow, like always. I couldn’t wait to move out and work somewhere important, like the World Trade Center.
“How’s …show more content…
I’m exhausted,” Carol lied. I knew business was bad today, just like everyday. Carol would never talk bad about her beloved coffee shop, though.
Carol quit high school to work as a barista at the family coffee shop. I’d never understand why she’d rather stay in one corner, rather than explore, and branch out into New York.
My parents were busy loading coffee beans into the pantry, so I went straight upstairs. My home was the little apartment above the coffee shop. I entered the room that me and Carol share. I sat down on the beanbag chair and started reading the newspaper Mr. Abboud brought me. I always had to know what was going on. After a while, the overbearing stench of coffee got to me. Since I didn’t have any homework, I suggested that we go out as a family. I was dying to get some fresh air.
My family and I decided to eat out at our favorite rooftop Mexican restaurant. After getting our fill of guacamole, we met up with the Abbouds and strolled around New York. Muhammed,
Carol, and I walked over to our favorite bench in all of New York, the one that faced the Twin
Towers. Carol brought a sketchbook to draw the different sights and people. She was always
Priya Kanuru
There are some moments you never forget. Like when you go to Disney Land, or when you first bring home a puppy. Some memories are more serious, like your first funeral, or when you have to put your dog down. For me, it was September 11, 2001, Tuesday, 8:45 a.m.
I was in junior high. Everyday, I walked to school with my best friend, Muhammed
Abboud. Muhammed’s family immigrated here to New York when he was only one. We’ve been friends since pre-school.
“How’s the coffee shop, Martha?” Muhammed asked. My parents owned Hopkin’s Coffee
Shop. I shrugged my signature shrug. Same question every time, same answer every time.
Business was slow, like always. I couldn’t wait to move out and work somewhere important, like the World Trade Center.
“How’s …show more content…
I’m exhausted,” Carol lied. I knew business was bad today, just like everyday. Carol would never talk bad about her beloved coffee shop, though.
Carol quit high school to work as a barista at the family coffee shop. I’d never understand why she’d rather stay in one corner, rather than explore, and branch out into New York.
My parents were busy loading coffee beans into the pantry, so I went straight upstairs. My home was the little apartment above the coffee shop. I entered the room that me and Carol share. I sat down on the beanbag chair and started reading the newspaper Mr. Abboud brought me. I always had to know what was going on. After a while, the overbearing stench of coffee got to me. Since I didn’t have any homework, I suggested that we go out as a family. I was dying to get some fresh air.
My family and I decided to eat out at our favorite rooftop Mexican restaurant. After getting our fill of guacamole, we met up with the Abbouds and strolled around New York. Muhammed,
Carol, and I walked over to our favorite bench in all of New York, the one that faced the Twin
Towers. Carol brought a sketchbook to draw the different sights and people. She was always