In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.
"I often recall my kite-days. Whenever the city streets seem to fill up suddenly with wintry people, whenever my business takes me through hustling, friendless sections of town, I let my mind wander back. Whenever I begin to look into every face, I see with suspicion. Whenever I find myself categorizing everybody into neat pidgen-holes, labelling this one a competitor, that one a sucker, the other an out-and-out enemy, then I know it is time to go back to the deserted playground with Runner (we called him Runner then because his nose was always running), time to pretend that both of us are just now running through the high dried grass, looking up at our purple kites trailing behind us."
The Angle: Vol. 1963:
1, Article 10.
Available at: https://fisherpub.sjf.edu/angle/vol1963/iss1/10