The autumn leaves blew over the moonlit pavement in such a way as to make the girl who was moving there seem fixed to a sliding walk, letting the motion of the wind and the leaves carry her forward. Her head was half bent to watch her shoes stir the circling leaves. Her face was slender and milk-white, and in it was a kind of gentle hunger that touched over everything with tireless curiosity. It was a look, almost, of pale surprise; the dark eyes were so fixed to the world that no move escaped them. Her dress was white and it whispered. He almost thought he heard the motion of her hands as she walked, and the infinitely small sound now, the white stir of her face turning when she discovered she was a moment away from a man who stood in the middle of the pavement waiting.
The trees overhead made a great sound of letting down their dry rain.
Ray Bradbury, Fahrenheit 451
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Tuesday, August 13, 2013
The Smell Of Kerosene
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3 comments:
Nice.
Gobs of beautiful imagery.
Saw this book in the required for school reading section at Wal-Mart :) Thought that was pretty cool.
...STILL leaves me speechless, even after ALL the times, i've read it...makes me Happy & Sad.
i Miss Ray sooooo Much, so Strange to feel that, for a man i Never knew..Oh my God, could he Ever write.
i sorta feel the same, with a few of Capote's novels,
such as, "Other Voices Other Rooms"
& "The Thanksgiving Visitor".
Oh those boys born in the '20's, Oh Lord, it's Scandalous, how they can write..<3333333333
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