The Magnificent Mile is thronged with wayfarers who spill into the lobby of Water Tower Place. Modern pilgrims, their paths combine and recombine, creating the essence of this Saturday.
Some are here seeking respite, a new pair of socks, their first encounter with a revolving door. Tourists ogle the architecture, the balls of water popping up between the escalators. A mother hefts her son aloft with a teamster’s aplomb. A din rises, mainly from the excited voices of women.
Patient, the generations wait, their loved ones absent on a quest that leaves them estranged. Tissue rustles in shopping bags.