"Have a great summer!"

Mr. Harrison pulled his jacket collar up around his neck as he turned back around to lock the front door. It’s always like this, he thought to himself. You suffer through the long, hot, sticky last weeks of August, sweat collecting in a pool at the small of your back as you walk the streets, forced to see the exposed body parts of strangers just as hot, yet seemingly not as bothered. Then, in the span of twenty-four hours, there is suddenly a chill in the air. A chill that sticks around until late May, like the leftover mashed potatoes on the bottom shelf of the fridge that no one wants, but somehow never get thrown away. Tupperware, the ultimate camouflage.

It was cold. No, not cold, brisk. A word that was, in and of itself, annoying. He detested winter, and come to think of it, he detested summer too. Not that he’d been able to enjoy much of it, what with all the crap going on at work. He thought of old yearbook entries from childhood, “Have a great summer! See you next year!” No one ever said, “Have a shitty summer! Hope I don’t see you next year!” At least he’d had the foresight to wear a jacket this morning. Glancing down at his tattered leather briefcase, he realized it might be the only thing he got right today.