No one on the streets witnessed him, nor saw how he got there.
I woke up this morning to frantic calls and messages from my Editors.
The yeti was dead in Times Square.
I took a cab down West 46th Street trying to get to 7th Avenue.
Traffic was stopped two blocks before Times Square.
Out of the cab I picked my way East, pushing through the crowds of early morning commuters.
He was sprawled out in the intersection of 46th Street and 7th Avenue. A huge, white creature covered in hair. Face down on the crosswalk. In his hand was a red ribbon, balled up, with a bell tied to one end.
The police were setting up barricades as three officers began to do a chalk outline of the body.
We’ve reviewed as much footage as we could. Security cameras, cameras from ATM’s, traffic cams. Everything they’d look at in TV shows. Nothing. We can’t find anything. One second it’s an empty street at three in the morning, the next this big guy is on the ground.
I can hear the emergency crews trying to figure out the best way to remove the body and take it somewhere for testing.
Some are taking pictures in front of it.
His eyes are wide open, staring at the giant signs and lights.
There are chunks of ice clinging to his hair and eyelashes.
I sneak into the Marriott on the corner, making my way to the roof to get a better view of the scene.
I knew the thing was big, but seeing it from up high, I can see just how big he really is.
One out stretched arm takes up half a block. His head is in the intersection but one of his feet has broken the stairs by 47th Street.
From up here I can see a small pool of blood around his head. A red halo spreading out on 7th Avenue.
I heard him. I didn’t see anything. I was too afraid to look out my window. But I heard him. He was so loud. He sounded hurt. Woke me right up.
I stared down at the giant, white hair covered, dead beast.
What in the world is something like that doing in New York? In Times Square?
It takes three helicopters to lift the body off of the street.
No one tells me where they are taking him.
Commuters began to flood Times Square. Most, it seemed, unaware that they were walking over the final resting spot of something they’ve only seen in movies.