Марсианские хроники
August 2026: There Will Come Soft Rains
AsIrecall,yourfavorite…"
"Therewillcomesoftrainsandthesmelloftheground,
Andswallowscirclingwiththeirshimmeringsound;
Andfrogsinthepoolssingingatnight,
Andwildplumtreesintremulouswhite;
Robinswillweartheirfeatheryfire,
Whistlingtheirwhimsonalowfence-wire;
Andnotonewillknowofthewar,notone
Willcareatlastwhenitisdone.
Notonewouldmind,neitherbirdnortree,
Ifmankindperishedutterly;
AndSpringherself,whenshewokeatdawn
Wouldscarcelyknowthatweweregone."
Thefireburnedonthestonehearthandthecigarfellawayintoamoundofquietashonitstray.Theemptychairsfacedeachotherbetweenthesilentwalls,andthemusicplayed.
Atteno’clockthehousebegantodie.
Thewindblew.Afallingtreeboughcrashedthroughthekitchenwindow.Cleaningsolvent,bottled,shatteredoverthestove.Theroomwasablazeinaninstant!
"Fire!"screamedavoice.Thehouselightsflashed,waterpumpsshotwaterfromtheceilings.Butthesolventspreadonthelinoleum,lickingeatingunderthekitchendoor,whilethevoicestookitupinchorus:"Fire,fire,fire!"
Thehousetriedtosaveitself.Doorssprangtightlyshut,butthewindowswerebrokenbytheheatandthewindblewandsuckeduponthefire.
Thehousegavegroundasthefireintenbillionangrysparksmovedwithflamingeasefromroomtoroomandthenupthestairs.Whilescurryingwaterratssqueakedfromthewalls,pistoledtheirwater,andranformore.Andthewallspraysletdownshowersofmechanicalrain.
Buttoolate.
