There will come soft rains by Ray Bradbury

There will come soft rains by Ray Bradbury

Storyboard Text

  • Seven Nine! Breakfast time! Seven Nine!
  • Seven-nine, breakfast time,seven-nine!
  • Time to clean
  • Nine-fifteen,time to clean.
  • Ten fifteen!
  • In the kitchen the breakfast stove gave a hissing sigh and ejected from its warm interior eight piecesof perfectly browned toast, eight eggs sunny side up, sixteen slices of bacon, two coffees, and twocool glasses of milk.
  • Twelve noon.
  • Out of warrens in the wall, tiny robot mice darted. The rooms were a crawl with the small cleaning animals, allrubber and metal. They thudded against chairs, whirling their moustached runners,kneading the rug nap, sucking gently at hidden dust. Then, like mysterious invaders, they popped into their burrows. Their pink electric eyes faded. The house was clean.
  • Four thirty.
  • Here the silhouette in paint of a man mowing a lawn. Here, as in a photograph, a woman bent to pick flowers. Stillfarther over, their images burned on wood in onetitanic instant, a small boy, hands flung into the air; higher up, the image of a thrown ball, and opposite him a girl, hands raised to catch a ball which never came down.
  • Ten o'clock
  • The front door recognized the dog voice and opened. The dog, once huge and fleshy, but nowgone to bone and covered with sores, moved in and through the house, tracking mud. Behind itwhirred angry mice, angry at having to pick up mud, angry at inconvenience.
  • The nursery floor was woven to resemble a crisp,cereal meadow. Over this ran aluminum roaches and iron crickets, and in the hot still air butterfliesof delicate red tissue wavered among the sharp aroma of animals poors! There was the sound like agreat matted yellow hive of bees within a dark bellows, the lazy bumble of a purring lion. And therewas the patter of okapifeet and the murmur of a fresh jungle rain, like other hoofs, falling upon thesummer-starched grass.
  • At ten o'clock the house began to die.Fire! screamed a voice. The house lights flashed, water pumps shot water from the ceilings. Butthe solvent spread on the linoleum, licking, eating, under the kitchen door, while the voices took itup in chorus: Fire, fire, fire!The house tried to save itself. Doors sprang tightly shut, but the windows were broken by the heatand the wind blew and sucked upon the fire.
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