Guess this week is the “recognizing self in literature” week :DDD
Ray Bradbury published this in 1994. Rodney, who mocks himself and his siblings as the Science-Fiction generation is a few years older than me (provided that Bradbury intended the story to happen around the year it was published).
Bradbury cheated with the ages to make the lack of deaths obvious, and cheated with location to make it exist. It’s less about one’s generation, really, than about not living in Niger.
And yet, in the here-and-now, in the circle around my head that is eternally Thursday, we do live in sci-fi. The fact that Claude disagrees with me is, in itself, evidence.