The druggist’s fount fizzes “like a nest of snakes.”
Keys “rattled their bones in locks.”
WILL STOPPED. Will looked at the Friday night town.
It seemed when the first stroke of nine banged from the big courthouse clock all the lights were on and business humming in the shops . But by the time the last stroke of nine shook everyone’s fillings in his teeth, the barbers had yanked off the sheets, powdered the customers, trotted them forth; the druggist’s fount had stopped fizzing like a nest of snakes, the insect neons everywhere had ceased buzzing, and the vast guttering acreage of the dime store with its ten billion metal, glass and paper oddments waiting to be fished over, suddenly blacked out. Shades slithered, doors boomed , keys rattled their bones in locks, people fled with hordes of torn newspaper mice nibbling their heels.
Bang! they were gone!
“Boy!” yelled Will. “Folks run like they thought the storm was here!”
“It is!” shouted Jim. “Us!”
Bradbury, Ray (2013-04-23). Something Wicked This Way Comes (Greentown) (p. 20). HarperCollins. Kindle Edition.
Plus, there’s so much action in his writing. Lots of exclamation points (which drives some readers nuts, I’ve heard), sure. But a lot of precise Continue reading