Gil sat baking in the sun for at least 45 minutes before one of the tour guides noticed him looking listless and leaning to his left side. As she approached him, she noticed that he had a stupid grin on his face.“Are you all right, Mr. Cohen?” she asked as she tried to slowly help him to his feet.His shirt was drenched with sweat and his skin was mostly clammy, signally that he was suffering from the middle stages of heat stroke.“It’s not so bad?” he muttered as he struggled to stand straight up. “What not so bad, Mr. Cohen?” one of the tour guides asked.“Death,” Gil stated in a glazed response.The guide looked at the heat-stricken man who appeared to have amoment of clarity amidst all of the sweat and dehydration. “Why is death not so bad?” she pressed on. Gil took a big swig of Gatorade and replied, “Because life wasn’t so great.
Phil Wohl, Big Chief Brooklyn
love-story