Cosmic Knot

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Arthur Blauden’s thin nose wrinkled with distaste as he climbed the narrow staircase to the Cryzc apartment. The odor in the stairwell was composed of equal parts of cabbage, faulty plumbing and economic despair.

It had all seemed so romantic, back in college, doing case work that would reveal at last the workings of immutable sociological laws. But in three years of field work as a social worker, Arthur Blauden had found, to his ultimate distress, that though he loved mankind as a whole, he detested its individual unwashed components.

Take this fantastic Cryzc family as an example. Sitting down in the department car parked in the littered street, Arthur Blauden had looked over his original report on the case and refreshed his memory, concentration a bit impaired by a noisy game of stickball in the same block.

A DP family, they were, front some Balkan fragment of a country, now using up good tax dollars. A pity.

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