painkiller64
Avoid A Void
‘‘I’ve always wanted to see a Martian,’’ said Michael, stiltedly. ‘‘Where are
they, Dad? You promised.’’
‘‘There they are,’’ said Dad, and he shifted Michael on his shoulder and
pointed straight down.
The Martians were there, all right. It sent a thrill chasing through Timothy.
The Martians were there—in the canal—reflected in the water. Timothy
and Michael and Robert and Mom and Dad.
The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the
rippling water . . .
—Ray Bradbury, ‘‘The Million-Year Picnic’’ (1946)
they, Dad? You promised.’’
‘‘There they are,’’ said Dad, and he shifted Michael on his shoulder and
pointed straight down.
The Martians were there, all right. It sent a thrill chasing through Timothy.
The Martians were there—in the canal—reflected in the water. Timothy
and Michael and Robert and Mom and Dad.
The Martians stared back up at them for a long, long silent time from the
rippling water . . .
—Ray Bradbury, ‘‘The Million-Year Picnic’’ (1946)
