"...dumplings"

I love time wandering tales. I can see James Baldwin at dawn running into Walt Whitman. This outside of the 42nd street Library. The guys wander downtown chatting of leaves, and democracy. They later meet that smarty pants 16th century poet John Donne in Chinatown.

Our heroes decide to have a breakfast of dumplings. It’s a crisp fall day in September 2001. The century, and unlikely meetings hardly surprises them. They being mystics assume such is to be expected from time to time.

Said Donne, “This electricity,…you so depend on it”. “I saw it’s beginnings” said Walt. “My bill is overdue” grumbled James. There was a flash a rumble the floor shook. They looked up. A flying machine had crashed into one of the great towers. The sky was on fire.

“This is where I came in”,…said Donne not at all surprised.