Paul Majkut

a detestable, viscous place populated by slugs

Work is the undoing of nature.

At the entrance of the Führerbunker, a dandelion pushed through the crack between cobblestones. The cadet did not notice that he stepped on it as they entered the bunker. A dark cloud of smoke rose from a burning ministry. Zeller fantasized that the filth that surrounded him was cleansed. He saw himself, a portly and tailored leader in a white uniform with gold epaulets, buttons, and stripes. He imagined himself in an immaculate, white city in Antarctica.

The burned corpses of the doppelgängers of Hitler and Braun, numerous false leads, meticulously orchestrated evidence, misdirection, and other diversions now being set in place will confuse the Americans and Russians, Zeller knew, and, in the end, put them at each other__ throats.