I’d forgotten my sweater I realized as I felt the chill creeping through my lightweight rain jacket. Standing numb in the line of commuters waiting and then jostling forward as buses rolled in and pulled away in a steady tide of transportation. I wondered if the office would be warm or if someone would have left all the windows open again. Everyone seemed to stream out of the office at day end. Streaming out like ants making their way from the same exit and then trailing off to meld with the paths of mutually oriented commuters. And the open windows stayed open, forgotten as they yawned above the old fashioned steam radiators cranking more heat than necessary for a balmy autumn afternoon. Open windows that sucked in almost liquid air in the early morning turning the brick oven into an ice box.
Hace Williams is a Seattle area author and journalist.