The sun beat down on the plaza. The midday heat was crushing, encompassing its unfortunate victims in a solid wall of heat like a boa with its prey.

Attempting to traverse the deathly hot expanse, one could swear you could see the lake receding, evaporating away into the haze. In this stark, inhospitable environment a lone contemplative figure could be sighted seated in Hagenah Fountain like Plato on the steps of his academy.

The man sat in the fountain for a period of hours, bravely going where no man has gone before, but wishes they could. The final frontier conquered beneath him, he planted his metaphorical flag in the form of his ass on the floor of the fountain and enjoyed his newly created oasis in the desert. As people passed by, he offered to share his glorious post, but not one had the courage.

There is little to say about this mysterious hero, only that he passed through our lives without fanfare or announcement, like the humble knights of old. No one knows from whence he came, but he went off into the sunset, the fountain behind him. We should not forget what he taught us about ourselves in his time, lest we lose our way.