Ten o’clock. The sun came out from behind the rain. The house
stood alone in a city of rubble and ashes. This was the one house left
standing. At night the ruined city gave off a radioactive glow which
could be seen for miles.
Ten-fifteen. The garden sprinklers whirled up in golden founts,
filling the soft morning air with scatterings of brightness. The water
pelted windowpanes, running down the charred west side where the
house had been burned evenly free of its white paint. The entire west
face of the house was black, save for five places. Here the silhouette1
in paint of a man mowing a lawn. Here, as in a photograph, a woman
bent to pick flowers. Still farther over, their images burned on wood
in one titanic instant, a small boy, hands flung into the air; higher up,
the image of a thrown ball, and opposite him a girl, hand raised to
catch a ball which never came down.
The five spots of paint—the man, the woman, the children, the
ball—remained. The rest was a thin charcoaled layer.
The gentle sprinkler rain filled the garden with falling li
Answer -
The Importance of pargraphs 10, 11, and 12 is that much like how our own alarms ring in a gentle voice to awake us at the start of our day; only the lonely house’s voice echoed across the halls with each passing hour. Upon reaching the first few paragraphs, the narrator reveals the house to have a built in A.I that is able to control every square inch of the house based on the schedule. (Bradbury page 1) But after the first few schedules, there still wasn’t any response from anyone within the house. At eight-thirty the eggs were shriveled and the toast was like stone. (Bradbury page 1 paragraph 11). It has already been over an hour since the first alarm, the warm fresh breakfast still remained untouched. This house was empty, yet despite it being empty, the house is still running it’s daily schedule as it is meant to do.
Brainliest will be appreciated as well.
