An aluminum wedge scraped them down a metal throat which digested and flushed them away to the distant sea. At eight-thirty the eggs were shriveled and the toast was like stone. After a long wait the door swung down again. Outside, the garage chimed and lifted its door to reveal the waiting car. The weather box on the fron door sang quietly: 'Rain, rain, go away rubbers, raincoats for today.' And the rain tapped on the empty house, echoing. Insurance is payable, as are the water, gas, and light bills.' Somewhere in the walls, relays clicked, memory tapes glided under electric eyes.Įight-one, tick-tock, eight-one o'clock, off to school, off to work, run, run, eight-one! But no doors slammed, no carpets took the soft tread of rubber heels.

Today is the anniversary of Tilita's marriage. 'Today is August 4, 2026,' said a second voice from the kitchen ceiling., 'in the city of Allendale, California.' It repeated the date three times for memory's sake. Seven-nine, breakfast time, seven-nine! In the kitchen the breakfast stove gave a hissing sigh and ejected from its warm interior eight pieces of perfectly browned toast, eight eggs sunnyside up, sixteen slices of bacon, two coffees, and two cool glasses of milk. The clock ticked on, repeating and repeating its sounds into the emptiness. In the living room the voice-clock sang, Tick-tock, seven o'clock, time to get up, time to get up, seven o'clock! as if it were afraid nobody would. There will come soft rains by Ray Bradbury (born 1920) I think this community will enjoy the read. I read this story in high school, and it just happen to cross my mind while trying to fall asleep.

August 2026 there will come soft rains