I hope everyone is reading or rereading "There Will Come Soft Rains" today, if they can, or on any other day. This is because every day is a good day to remind yourself "goddamn, Ray Bradbury could write."
I read a bunch of golden age sf as a kid because my dad had a vast collection of old paperbacks from the 50s-70s. Clarke, Asimov, Heinlein, Bradbury, McCaffrey. And several Ray Bradbury collections.
And even now, four decades later, there are three Ray Bradbury stories that I think about all the time:
The Lake
Homecoming
The Fog Horn
There’s so much sadness in each of these. The language is spare and the descriptions exact, and each one is just a strange and perfect jewel. He was a master of the craft. If you’ve read and there will come soft rains, read these as well
