One Day of Summer

Introduction: This article is a translation by the translator of the science fiction short story "All Summer in a Day" by Ray Bradbury. The original text is from This story was first published in the March 1954 issue of "The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction." According to Wikipedia, the story was adapted into a 30-minute television short film by the American public television station PBS, which aired in the 1982 series "WonderWorks," see YouTube. In addition, there was also an 11-minute short film based on the story in 2014, see Vimeo. The cover image is from Art Station. Any errors or omissions in the translation are my responsibility.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm ready."



"Do the scientists really know? Will it happen today, right now?"

"Look, look, look for yourself!"

The children clustered together, like many roses and many weeds growing together, staring intently at the hidden sun.

It was raining.

It had been raining for seven years, day and night without stopping, with slanting pillars of water, with water like a thick curtain, with water sweeping through the forest and turning the island into a world of mist. A thousand forests had been crushed under the rain and grown up a thousand times to be crushed again. That was the way life was on Venus. This was the classroom on Venus, with the children sitting in rows on the two sides of the open space. And in the middle of it, in a loud voice, there was the teacher.

"Ready, children?"




"Do the scientists really know? Will it happen today, this minute?"

"Watch, watch, watch!"

"Is it today?"

"Yes, today!"

"Is it now?"

"Stand aside. Stand aside!"

In the silence and the stillness, one of them was crying. "I don't remember the sun," he said. "I don't remember the sun."

Another came running, and the others, turning, saw the wet face of an animal in the wind.

"It's like a penny," she said, eyes closed.

"No," he said.

"It's like a fire," she said, "in the stove."

"You're lying, you don't remember!"

"It's like a red ball of fire," she said. "It's part of your body."

"Me, too," he yelled, "I remember!"

"It's like a hot iron," she said, "in my hand."

"Cut it out!" The boy gave her a shove. "What do you know about it, anyway? What do you know about the sun?"

"I remember the sun," she said. "I remember."

"Hey, everyone, let's put her in a closet before the teacher comes!"


They surged about her, caught her up and bore her, protesting, and then pleading, and then crying, back into a tunnel, a room, a closet, where they slammed and locked the door. They stood looking at the door and saw it tremble from her beating and throwing herself against it. They heard her muffled cries. Then they turned and went out, and back down the tunnel, just as the teacher arrived.

"Ready, children?"


"Are we all here?"


"Come on, then!"

They turned and started to walk back down the tunnel. Behind them, the door was opened.

"Ready, children?"


"Are we all here?"


"Come on, then!"

They walked slowly down the tunnel in the sound of cold rain. They turned and stopped, and then, afraid, turned again and went on. Finally, they stood in the doorway of the room.



"Is it locked?"


"Go on!"

They walked slowly into the room. They stood together, away from the wall, away from the locked door. They looked at each other and then looked away. They glanced out at the world that was raining now and raining and raining steadily. They could not meet each other's glances. Their faces were solemn and pale. They looked at their hands and feet, their faces down.


One of the girls said, "Well?"

No one moved.

"Go on," whispered the girl.

They walked slowly down the hall in the sound of cold rain. They turned and stopped, and then, afraid, turned again and went on, looking down, not wanting to meet the glances of the others.

Ownership of this post data is guaranteed by blockchain and smart contracts to the creator alone.