"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 silhouette 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, hands 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."
excerpt from There Will Come Soft Rains in The Martian Chronicles
My older brother turned me on to Bradbury when I was quite young and I grew up reading his books. I don't think I have read anything quite like them since.
I read a lot of his work: Illustrated Man, Fahrenheit 451, Martian Chronicles. "The Visitor" and "The Man" were two short stories from Illustrated Man that I remember to this day, 40 years later.