Burning Bright

           Lightsflickedonandhouse-doorsopenedalldownthestreet,towatchthecarnivalsetup. MontagandBeattystared,onewithdrysatisfaction,theotherwithdisbelief, atthehousebeforethem,thismainringinwhichtorcheswouldbejuggledandfireeaten. 

           "Well,"saidBeatty,"nowyoudidit. OldMontagwantedtoflynearthesunandnowthathe’sburnthisdamnwings,hewonderswhy. Didn’tIhintenoughwhenIsenttheHoundaroundyourplace?" 

           Montag’sfacewasentirelynumbandfeatureless;hefelthisheadturnlikeastonecarvingtothedarkplacenextdoor,setinitsbrightbordersofflowers. 

           Beattysnorted. "Oh,no!Youweren’tfooledbythatlittleidiot’sroutine,now,wereyou? Flowers,butterflies,leaves,sunsets,oh,hell! It’sallinherfile. I’llbedamned.I’vehitthebullseye. Lookatthesicklookonyourface. Afewgrass-bladesandthequartersofthemoon.Whattrash. Whatgooddidsheeverdowithallthat?" 

           MontagsatonthecoldfenderoftheDragon,movinghisheadhalfaninchtotheleft,halfaninchtotheright,left,right,leftright,left... 

           "Shesaweverything. Shedidn’tdoanythingtoanyone. Shejustletthemalone." 

           "Alone,hell!Shechewedaroundyou,didn’tshe? Oneofthosedamndo-gooderswiththeirshocked,holier-than-thousilences, theironetalentmakingothersfeelguilty. Goddamn,theyriselikethemidnightsuntosweatyouinyourbed!" 

           Thefrontdooropened;Mildredcamedownthesteps,running,onesuitcaseheldwithadream-likeclenchingrigidityinherfist, asabeetle-taxihissedtothecurb.