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- Рэй Брэдбери
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- Марсианские хроники
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Something
was
going
to
happen
.
She
waited
.
She
watched
the
blue
sky
of
Mars
as
if
it
might
at
any
moment
grip
in
on
itself
,
contract
,
and
expel
a
shining
miracle
down
upon
the
sand
.
Nothing
happened
.
Tired
of
waiting
,
she
walked
through
the
misting
pillars
.
A
gentle
rain
sprang
from
the
fluted
pillar
tops
,
cooling
the
scorched
air
,
falling
gently
on
her
.
On
hot
days
it
was
like
walking
in
a
creek
.
The
floors
of
the
house
glittered
with
cool
streams
.
In
the
distance
she
heard
her
husband
playing
his
book
steadily
,
his
fingers
never
tired
of
the
old
songs
.
Quietly
she
wished
he
might
one
day
again
spend
as
much
time
holding
and
touching
her
like
a
little
harp
as
he
did
his
incredible
books
.
But
no
.
She
shook
her
head
,
an
imperceptible
,
forgiving
shrug
.
Her
eyelids
closed
softly
down
upon
her
golden
eyes
.
Marriage
made
people
old
and
familiar
,
while
still
young
.
She
lay
back
in
a
chair
that
moved
to
take
her
shape
even
as
she
moved
.
She
closed
her
eyes
tightly
and
nervously
.
The
dream
occurred
.
Her
brown
fingers
trembled
,
came
up
,
grasped
at
the
air
.
A
moment
later
she
sat
up
,
startled
,
gasping
.
She
glanced
about
swiftly
,
as
if
expecting
someone
there
before
her
.
She
seemed
disappointed
;
the
space
between
the
pillars
was
empty
.
