But I went there again. Then one day I met Bobby at the 7:30 show. I was entering through the door of the hall. The ticket man checked my ticket. Ever...body inside was watching the guys enter. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Some of the guys looking at me were waiting for me to take a seat so that they can sit next to me. Suddenly, a much taller guy than me, who was next in line behind me, put his arm around my waist, slipped his hands in my shorts and grabbed my crotch. I shifted through. Central Park with all the Sunday morning activities. The thrill of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, set against the sad, respectful 9/11 memorial.Once again, I closed the phone and rested my head on the back of the sofa. “All this way, and you’re avoiding it, aren’t you?” I scolded myself. I had not been in the bathroom, knowing that seeing it again would trigger the memories of that final day. Fearing my dreams might prove to be the functioning of a mind chilled by dementia, I moved to. More

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