Tar

In Manhattan, a young woman was crossing a street, right foot, left foot, across asphalt sticky with heat. Turned a traffic signal, charged down on her two lines of motors. Alarmed, she stood still. Her heels sank into the tar, were held fast. She gave a lurch. Her foot came from her slipper. She put her steaming foot back into her slipper, wrenched once more, and once more it slipped out, causing her to lose her balance, plunge her foot into the tar which gripped her stocking as she wrestled, dragged it half off. For a moment she balanced, storklike, on a single strut, then, with a yelp, fell face forward into the tar. A dozen men ran to her. With a jerky, united effort they dragged her to the sidewalk.