Author:  Ray Bradbury
Viewed: 76 - Published at: 8 years ago

The accident had occurred at an
intersection surrounded on one side by empty factories and a deserted schoolyard, and on the opposite side, by a graveyard. I had come running from the nearest house, a hundred yards away.
Yet, within moments, it seemed, a crowd had gathered. Where had they all come from? Later on in time, I could only imagine that some came, in some strange fashion, out of the empty factories,
or even more strangely, out of the graveyard. After typing for only a few minutes, it came to me that, yes, this crowd was always the same crowd, that it gathered at all accidents. These
were victims from accidents years ago, doomed to come back and haunt the scene of new accidents as they occurred.

( Ray Bradbury )
[ Zen in the Art of Writing ]
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