1984

           Thepatrolsmightstopyouifyouhappenedtorunintothem. ‘MayIseeyourpapers,comrade? Whatareyoudoinghere? Whattimedidyouleavework? Isthisyourusualwayhome?’—andsoonandsoforth. Notthattherewasanyruleagainstwalkinghomebyanunusualroute: butitwasenoughtodrawattentiontoyouiftheThoughtPoliceheardaboutit. 

           Suddenlythewholestreetwasincommotion. Therewereyellsofwarningfromallsides. Peoplewereshootingintothedoorwayslikerabbits. AyoungwomanleaptoutofadoorwayalittleaheadofWinston,grabbedupatinychildplayinginapuddle,whippedherapronroundit,andleaptbackagain,allinonemovement. Atthesameinstantamaninaconcertina-likeblacksuit,whohademergedfromasidealley,rantowardsWinston,pointingexcitedlytothesky. 

           ‘Steamer!’heyelled.‘Lookout,guv’nor!Bangover’ead!Laydownquick!’ 

           ‘Steamer’wasanicknamewhich,forsomereason,theprolesappliedtorocketbombs. Winstonpromptlyflunghimselfonhisface. Theproleswerenearlyalwaysrightwhentheygaveyouawarningofthiskind. Theyseemedtopossesssomekindofinstinctwhichtoldthemseveralsecondsinadvancewhenarocketwascoming,althoughtherocketssupposedlytravelledfasterthansound. Winstonclaspedhisforearmsabovehishead. Therewasaroarthatseemedtomakethepavementheave;ashoweroflightobjectspatteredontohisback. Whenhestooduphefoundthathewascoveredwithfragmentsofglassfromthenearestwindow. 

           Hewalkedon. Thebombhaddemolishedagroupofhouses200metresupthestreet. Ablackplumeofsmokehunginthesky,andbelowitacloudofplasterdustinwhichacrowdwasalreadyformingaroundtheruins.