2 B R O 2 B
Book Excerpt
The population of the United States was stabilized at forty-million souls.
One bright morning in the Chicago Lying-in Hospital, a man named Edward K. Wehling, Jr., waited for his wife to give birth. He was the only man waiting. Not many people were born a day any more.
Wehling was fifty-six, a mere stripling in a population whose average age was one hundred and twenty-nine.
X-rays had revealed that his wife was going to have triplets. The children would be his first.
Young Wehling was hunched in his chair, his head in his hand. He was so rumpled, so still and colorless as to be virtually invisible. His camouflage was perfect, since the waiting room had a disorderly and demoralized air, too. Chairs and ashtrays had been moved away from the walls. The floor was paved with spattered dropcloths.
The room was being redecorated. It was being redecorated as a memorial to a man who had voluntee
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You, of course, get the sublime writing style of Vonnegut to take through it.
The reader's various voices are pretty hammy, though. It was a good effort to energize the story, but it was ultimately distracting.
Funny, though-provoking, prescient, concise.
Vonnegut manages in a few pages what most lesser authors never achieve in a lifetime of novels.