Explore "Rocket Summer" by Ray Bradbury on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The crowd gathered to make a curious noise this cold grey morning before the scheduled Birth. They arrived in gleaming scarlet tumblebugs and yellow plastic beetles, yawning and singing and ready. The Birth was a big thing for them.
He stood alone up in his high office tower window, watching them with a sad impatience in his grey eyes. His name was William Stanley, president of the company that owned this building and all those other work-hangars down on the tarmac, and all that landing field stretching two miles off into the Jersey mists. William Stanley was thinking about the Birth.