Человек в высоком замке

           Youhavetowatchout,Reissreflected,orallatonceyoufindyourselfconsultoabunchofniggersonanislandoffthecoastofSouthAfrica.Andthenextyouknow,youhaveablackmammyforamistress,andtenorelevenlittlepickaninniescallingyoudaddy.

           ReseatinghimselfathisbreakfasttablehelitanEgyptianSimonArztCigaretteNumber70,carefullyreclosingthemetaltin.

           Itdidnotappearthathewouldbeinterruptedforalittlewhilenow,sofromhisbriefcasehetookthebookhehadbeenreading,openedtohisplacemark,madehimselfcomfortable,andresumedwherehehadlastbeenforcedtostop.

           …Hadheactuallywalkedstreetsofquietcars,SundaymorningpeaceoftheTiergarten,sofaraway?Anotherlife.Icecream,atastethatcouldneverhaveexisted.Nowtheyboilednettlesandweregladtogetthem.God,hecriedout.Won’ttheystop?ThehugeBritishtankscameon.Anotherbuilding,itmighthavebeenanapartmenthouseorastore,aschooloroffice;hecouldnottell—theruinstoppled,slidintofragments.Belowintherubbleanotherhandfulofsurvivorsburied,withouteventhesoundofdeath.Deathhadspreadouteverywhereequally,overtheliving,thehurt,thecorpseslayerafterlayerthatalreadyhadbeguntosmell.Thestinking,quiveringcorpseofBerlin,theeyelessturretsstillupraised,disappearingwithoutprotestlikethisone,thisnamelessedificethatmanhadonceputupwithpride.