“It came on great, oiled, resilient, striding legs.

It towered thirty feet above half of the trees, a

great evil god, folding its delicate watchmaker’s claws close to its oily reptilian chest. Each lower
leg was a piston, a thousand pounds of white bone, sunk in thick ropes of muscle, sheathed over
in a gleam of pebbled skin like the mail of a terrible warrior. Each thigh was a ton of meat, ivory,
and steel mesh, and from the great breathing cage of the upper body those two delicate arms
dangled out front, arms with hands which might pick up and examine men like toys, while the
snake neck coiled. And the head itself, a ton of sculptured stone, lifted easily upon the sky. Its
mouth gaped exposing a fence of teeth like daggers. Its eyes rolled, ostrich eggs, empty of all
expression save hunger. It closed its mouth in a death grin. It ran, its pelvic bones crushing aside
trees and bushes, its taloned feet clawing the damp earth, leaving prints six inches deep wherever
it settled its weight. It ran with a gliding ballet step, far too poised and balanced for its ten tons. It
moved into a sunlit arena warily, its beautifully reptilian hands feeling the air.”

“A Sound of Thunder”
Ray Bradbury

The fire crackled up the stairs. It fed upon Picassos and Matisses in the upper halls, like
delicacies, baking off the oily flesh, tenderly crisping the canvases into black shavings.
Now the fire lay in beds, stood in windows, changed the colors of drapes!
And then, reinforcements.
From attic trapdoors, blind robot faces peered down with faucet mouths gushing green
chemical.
The fire backed off, as even an elephant must at the sight of a dead snake. Now there
were twenty snakes whipping over the floor, killing the fire with a clear cold venom of green
froth.
“There Will Come Soft Rains”
Ray Bradbury

He came to a cloverleaf intersection which stood silent where two main highways crossed the
town. During the day it was a thunderous surge of cars, the gas stations open, a great insect
rustling and a ceaseless jockeying for position as the scarab-beetles, a faint incense puttering from
their exhausts, skimmed homeward to the far directions. But now these highways, too, were like
streams in a dry season, all stone and bed and moon radiance.
He turned back on a side street, circling around toward his home. He was within a block
of his destination when the lone car turned a corner quite suddenly and flashed a fierce white
cone of light upon him. He stood entranced, not unlike a night moth, stunned by the illumination,
and then drawn toward it.
“The Pedestrian”
By Ray Bradbury
NAME________________________________________________________________________

Answer in the space below.

A. On the back of this page are excerpts from three works by Ray Bradbury. Find examples
of each stylistic device (sensory details, metaphor, simile) in the excerpts. Which lines do
you consider most poetic? Support your answer.

B. Rewrite one of the excerpts in a simpler way. Be sure to keep the same idea.
Define the following terms:

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

BIOGRAPHY

MEMOIR

ESSAY

What are the three subcategories of Autobiography?

What are the two common types of essays that may be either formal or informal? Define the
functions of each.