...is being on the bridge, only hours before it collapsed, feeling like just moments. Weaving my way back from class, wandering to the Minnesota Center for the Book Arts, deciding on a whim to visit The Fiance at work, making my way between the Twin Cities, a kind of strange movement around town, 35W the highway most familiar.
Not much is known as of now, from news reports, but I will wait and hope those I know and love are safe. Still so many connections to this city. And this, right now, is the leading story on The New York Times. CNN, BBC. Sydney Morning Herald, India, the Guardian, Malaysia. So strange to see this place, these bits of a geography I call home on the international news, the biggest, breaking story. Cars submerged in the water, a school bus teetering. The bridge was under heavy construction, so I am sure this is a huge contribution, if not the reason.
In the meantime, The Fiance and I are both well--me, just making my way home from Minneapolis at the start of rush hour, and The Fiance still tucked safely at work, the result of my stopping by and taking an hour long lunch with him.
And, stupidly, in a sort of numb way, I wonder about tomorrow, as this is my route into workshop, and I can't stop thinking about how I was just there and if I will see it, this aftermath.
The map above can give you an idea as to location--there, you can see the university's east and west banks. And the picture at the top, the one with the 4th Street exit, that's the one I'd take to get home when I first moved to the Twin Cities, the one something like eight blocks away from my little studio apartment. The place I'd cross to get home.
I have heard from most friends, but not all. Keeping my breath held, hoping, finding myself doing that shaky kind of stuttering cry, the kind that came in September some time ago. This, not as big, but so much closer, so startling.