Марсианские хроники

           "WeshouldsendamessagetoMother."

           "She’sallright."

           "Isshe?"

           "Now,don’tworry."

           "Willshebeallright,doyouthink?"

           "Ofcourse,ofcourse;nowcometobed."

           Butnobodymoved.Latedinnerswerecarriedoutontothenightlawnsandsetuponcollapsibletables,andtheypickedattheseslowlyuntiltwoo’clockandthelight-radiomessageflashedfromEarth.TheycouldreadthegreatMorse-codeflasheswhichflickeredlikeadistantfirefly:

           AUSTRALIANCONTINENTATOMIZEDINPREMATURE

           EXPLOSIONOFATOMICSTOCKPILE.LOSANGELES,

           LONDONBOMBED.WAR.COMEHOME.COMEHOME.

           COMEHOME.

           Theystoodupfromtheirtables.

           COMEHOME.COMEHOME.COMEHOME.

           "HaveyouheardfromyourbrotherTedthisyear?"

           "Youknow.WithmailratesfivebucksalettertoEarth,Idon’twritemuch."

           COMEHOME.

           "I’vebeenwonderingaboutJane;yourememberJane,mykidsister?"

           COMEHOME.

           Atthreeinthechillymorningtheluggage-storeproprietorglancedup.Alotofpeoplewerecomingdownthestreet.

           "Stayedopenlateonpurpose.What’llitbe,mister?"

           Bydawntheluggagewasgonefromhisshelves.