I know, it's silly, but this is my personal shot at mimicking the masterful writing style of Ray Bradbury. The way the man uses words, it's like he's painting a Norman Rockwell- even when he uses such unusual strokes as the alien invasion, the dystopian Firemen, and the carnival of terror.

No doubt about it, the summer was ending, with the sun sputtering out a few final rays before shuttering its cloudy doors and hiding from the fall and the winter. It was going to be cold, but no colder than the winters before, and there was solace in this- why fear winter when the worst winters have come and gone just the same? No, this winter would be a jollier affair- but only if the fall came and went quietly.

The fall never went quietly.