Hot stairs

The sun heat turned the sidewalks into saunas. My shirt was soaked through, my morning do completely humidified. Walking down into the underpass, I saw a man - shrunken, grey, grasping a water bottle, bent over, descending the stairs. Every few steps he would sit, gather himself up, walk down a few more, and sit again. Persistent, but weakening, weakening. One shopkeeper selling socks by the stairs called out to him, another vendor from inside the tunnel came up to see him. Everyone frowned, this was not good.