Pools

Pools of light poured through the windows of Mazlow's thirty-second story office. He squinted against the glare, forcing himself to look at the blueprints laid out in front of him. He tried to focus.
His view shifted to the picture of his family on the desk, their cheerful smiles bringing one across his own face. They were the reason he kept working - day in, day out - assembling some of the finest architecture the world had ever seen. It never seemed enough.
He loosened his tie. The sunlight's rays forced the air conditioning into a battle for dominance.
Mazlow's brow began to sweat, but it wasn't because of the heat. He took one last look at the photo, and stood up.
Walker would be here any minute.