Атлант расправил плечи
The Immovable Movers
Foronce,shewantedtofeelherselfcarriedbythepowerofsomeoneelse’sachievement.Asmenonadarkprairielikedtoseethelightedwindowsofatraingoingpast,herachievement,thesightofpowerandpurposethatgavethemreassuranceinthemidstofemptymilesandnight-soshewantedtofeelitforamoment,abriefgreeting,asingleglimpse,justtowaveherarmandsay:Someoneisgoingsomewhere....
Shestartedwalkingslowly,herhandsinthepocketsofhercoat,theshadowofherslantinghatbrimacrossherface.Thebuildingsaroundherrosetosuchheightsthatherglancecouldnotfindthesky.Shethought:Ithastakensomuchtobuildthiscity,itshouldhavesomuchtooffer.
Abovethedoorofashop,theblackholeofaradioloudspeakerwashurlingsoundsatthestreets.Theywerethesoundsofasymphonyconcertbeinggivensomewhereinthecity.Theywerealongscreechwithoutshape,asofclothandfleshbeingtornatrandom.Theyscatteredwithnomelody,noharmony,norhythmtoholdthem.Ifmusicwasemotionandemotioncamefromthought,thenthiswasthescreamofchaos,oftheirrational,ofthehelpless,ofman’sself-abdication.
Shewalkedon.Shestoppedatthewindowofabookstore.Thewindowdisplayedapyramidofslabsinbrownish-purplejackets,inscribed:TheVultureIsMolting."Thenovelofourcentury,"saidaplacard."Thepenetratingstudyofabusinessman’sgreed.Afearlessrevelationofman’sdepravity."
Shewalkedpastamovietheater.
