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I didn’t work for a week after the attack on the World Trade Center, because the company had suspended operations. Overnight I had lost everything: my job, confidence in the future. Lower Manhattan, the pride of New York City, was shut down up to 14th Street. I took advantage of the hiatus and in an hour prepared the required package of documents in Brighton Beach to apply for citizenship. Until Sunday I was completely in the dark. There was the milky haze-the ashen sky, the ashen sea, the ashen greenery and the ashen camel-and the phrase, like a slap in the face, that came by e-mail on the evening of September 11: «Wait until things clear up, then we will let you know…» Wait how long? A day? Two days? A month? On Sunday a ray of hope peeked through as I was summoned to work. The company had found space at the Brooklyn Business Center and… lasted a month. The market collapsed, re-enacting what had happened to the twin towers. Millions of Americans lost their jobs. I was one of them, as the wave of layoffs killed the Internet company and smashed a prosperous business to bits.