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Montāžas Teksta

  • Mr. Leonard Mead walks through the misty night and empty streets
  • Mr. Mead is irritated by the depths of the nonexistent town
  • Mr. Mead gets flashed by a bright light from the police
  • Mr. Leonard Mead would pause, cock hishead, listen, look, and march on, his feet making nonoise on the lumpy walk.
  • Police officer interrogates Mr. Mead with great suspicion
  • Hello, in there, he whispered to everyhouse on every side as he moved. What's up tonighton Channel 4, Channel 7, Channel 9? Where are thecowboys rushing, and do I see the United StatesCavalry over the next hill to the rescue?
  • Mr. Mead is unjustly arrested for his simple actions
  • The tombs, ill-lit by television light, where the peoplesat like the dead, the gray or multicolored lightstouching their faces, but never really touching them.No profession, said the phonograph voice,hissing. What are you doing out?
  • Mr. Mead has ended his night in a psychiatric center
  • Don't speak unless you're spoken to! Leonard Mead waited in the cold night. Just walking, Mr. Mead? Yes. But you haven't explained for what purpose. I explained; for air, and to see, and just towalk.
  • Wait a minute, I haven't done anything! Get in. I protest! Mr. Mead....He put his hand to the door and peered intothe back seat, which was a little cell, a little black jailwith bars. It smelled of riveted steel. It smelled ofharsh antiseptic
  • To the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.He got in. The door shut with a soft thud....The car moved down the empty river-bed streets and off away, leaving the empty streets withthe empty side-walks, and no sound and no motion allthe rest of the chill November night.
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