Out of the ice-box elevator into the chilly lobby, he turns through the revolving door out/into searing-magnificent August. Under a cloudless blue sky, he walks the several blocks to the harbor, thinking along the way how despite working nearby he hadn’t made the walk all summer. The region is undergoing a drought and the dry heat is volcanic. There’s not even a breeze to bring relief. Other people are out at lunch along the park-like greenway trying to beat the heat and enjoy the last of summer.
Weaving through the crowds, he makes his way to the end of the wharf, dodging tourists along the way who have the whole day to spend. A couple, husband and wife, gray-haired, with silly shirts and summer hats, stroll aimlessly behind their teenage daughter who walks ten feet ahead, ignoring her folks, searching. It’s not long before he sees a nearly identical couple, only trailing behind a teenage son.
His mind goes back to forgotten vacations with his parents. He turns, strolling along and thinking of himself in the role of parent on vacation this time. The office building where he works looms, and he goes back inside the cool. At his desk he forgets about summer, and gets lost in the flow again, of managing the minor crises of other people’s lives.
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