Tuesday 11 September 2001. I remember every single thing of that fateful day. Memories are stuck in my mind for a lifetime. No words can express the utter disbelief that I felt then, six years ago to the day, glued to my TV screen, my vision blurred by the tears in my eyes. No words can relate that tragedy. The sight of that plane heading for the emblematic skyscraper, which looked suddenly so very vulnerable. I remember seeing, along with millions of other traumatised human beings, the second plane crashing into the World Trade Center tower #2. I do remember, but it is like remembering a dream, not knowing whether what you experienced was reality or fantasy. I am not convinced that remembering a nightmare is actually less disturbing than experiencing it. A hell of a vision ; a vision of Hell. A sense that you are the only one left on Earth ; a sense that time has stopped. A sense of total disbelief, and yet the pictures on the screen seem so terribly genuine.