Our Bradbury, who art in heaven,
All Hallows be thy name:
“I was talking to a friend. And I said, “Are these stories familiar to you?” I told him all the words I knew, the ones about the monsters coming home to the house with the human child in it, the ones about the lightning salesman and the wicked carnival that followed him, and the Martians and their fallen glass cities and their perfect canals. I told him all the words, and he said he hadn’t heard of them. That they didn’t exist.
And I worry.
I worry I was keeping them alive.”
I miss reading Bradbury to my students.
Maybe we should all dress up as Tall they were and Golden-Eyed this Halloween.
cheekypinky 