Author Hecht, Cursing, Burrows Morbidly through the Loams of Illusion
The Story. Mr. Winkelberg, a paunchy Dutch biped, sold cheap jewelry in Chicago. In the hairy bulb between Mr. Winkelberg's shoulders was accumulated a small mass of miscellaneous garbage which Mr. Winkelberg called his opinions, his beliefs, his reasons, his god.
There were many Winkelberg relatives, all the same. The whole city, lusting and pulsing in greedy dark animalism, was a city of Winkelbergs. There were a million such Winkelberg cities, a world full of them, a Winkelberg mankind. Every dawn, when...