I remember reading some Ray Bradbury when I was a wee whipper-snappet, many, many moons ago, though I don't recall his "Something Wicked This Way Comes", so I'm guessing it wasn't amongst my school library's meagre horror and terror section I snavelled up eagerly in the sixth and seventh grades. I confess, I'm rather enjoying it, though his writing style is very different to all the authors I have been absorbing of late. I found a passage that I thought particularly yummy, and thought I'd let you in on it:
His wife smiled in her sleep.
She's immortal. She has a son.
Your son, too!
But what father really believes it? He carries no burden, he feels no pain. What man, like woman, lies down in darkness and gets up with child? The gentle, smiling ones own the good secret. Oh, what strange wonderful clocks women are. They nest in Time. They make the flesh that holds fast and binds eternity. They live inside the gift, know power, accept, and need not mention it. Why speak of Time when you are time, and shape the universal moments, as they pass, into warmth and action?
What did you think? I just love the lines: "They nest in Time. They make the flesh that holds fast and binds eternity". Delicious!
The Galahs and Magpies are carrying on outside because I won't throw any more seed out. And all Stella can say to that is a 'wolf-whistle'. Yup, that will sort them out.