Twelve hours after the first plane crashed into the World Trade Center, it was a sunny September morning in Sydney, and Mr Bell (who was Boyfriend Bell at the time) and I were moving house. (You're going to have to scroll down, I'm being all creative here...)
Every TV channel was reporting on the rapidly escalating disaster, and our television was literally the last thing to leave our apartment. Later that day, we were in our new apartment, unpacking, and you see the middle photo? It's of the Twin Towers. Well, when we took it of of the box it was transported in, we discovered it had shattered during the move. Glass was everywhere. Spookiest thing that's ever happened to either of us.
Anyway, we just had them re-framed and I wanted to show them off. They're on a slither of a wall, so the vertical thing is working overtime for them. And that red! I'm loving it. But every time I walk past them, I always feel a twinge of sadness...