If you grew up reading science fiction, you know the name. Isaac Asimov. The guy basically built the foundations of modern robotics and gave us the Foundation series. But he had this weird, quirky side. He loved writing short stories that felt more like a "Twilight Zone" episode than a hard-science textbook. Honestly, Rain Rain Go Away by Isaac Asimov is probably the best example of that. It’s not about spaceships or grand galactic empires. It’s about a neighbor who is just a little too obsessed with the weather.
I remember the first time I read it. It felt simple. Maybe too simple? But that’s the trick Asimov plays on you.
The story first popped up in the September 1959 issue of Fantastic Universe. Later, it found a permanent home in his 1975 collection, Buy Jupiter and Other Stories. It’s a tiny piece of fiction—barely a few pages—but it sticks in your brain because it taps into that universal human feeling that something is off about the people next door. You know the feeling. The neighbors who are too polite. Too clean. Too perfect.
What Actually Happens in Rain Rain Go Away?
The plot centers on the Wrights. They are your typical, mid-century American suburban couple. George and Lillian. They’re fine, if a bit nosy. Their new neighbors, the Sakkaros, are the ones causing the friction.
The Sakkaros are weirdly obsessed with the sun. They spend all their time tanning, but the second a cloud drifts over, they bolt inside. They don’t just walk; they look terrified. Lillian Wright is fascinated. She’s the kind of person who watches people through the blinds, though Asimov writes her with a certain relatable curiosity rather than malice. Eventually, the Wrights convince the Sakkaros to go to an amusement park.
It’s a disaster from the start.
The Sakkaros are constantly checking barometers. They’re looking at the sky like it’s a falling ceiling. At the park, they won’t eat anything except cotton candy. Just pure sugar. No water, no soda, no orange juice. This is where Asimov’s brilliance as a writer shines. He doesn't tell you what they are. He just gives you these tiny, bizarre clues.
Then the rain starts.
💡 You might also like: Actor Most Academy Awards: The Record Nobody Is Breaking Anytime Soon
A single cloud opens up as they pull back into their driveway. The Sakkaros scramble for their front door. They almost make it. But a few drops hit them. And then? They melt. They don't just die; they dissolve. Because, as it turns out, they were made of sugar.
The Science (and Lack Thereof) Behind the Sugar People
Asimov was a biochemist. He knew his stuff. This makes the ending of Rain Rain Go Away by Isaac Asimov even funnier because it’s scientifically absurd, yet he treats it with such a straight face.
The name "Sakkaro" is a dead giveaway if you know your Greek. Sakcharon means sugar. Asimov was literally punning in the characters' names the entire time. If you caught that in the first paragraph, the ending was inevitable. If you didn't, you were just as shocked as the Wrights.
Why would sugar people exist? Asimov never explains it. Are they aliens? Are they some weird biological experiment? It doesn't matter. The horror isn't in the how, it’s in the visual. Imagine seeing your neighbor turn into a sticky, white puddle on the sidewalk just because of a light drizzle. It’s grotesque. It’s also kinda hilarious in a dark way.
Most people read this as a commentary on suburban conformity. In the 1950s, everyone was trying to be the same. The Sakkaros were trying so hard to fit in—to be the "sweetest" neighbors—that their literal sweetness became their downfall. They were fragile. They couldn't handle the "weather" of real life.
Why This Story Still Hits Hard in 2026
You’d think a story from 1959 would feel dated. It doesn't.
We live in an era of curated lives. Think about Instagram or TikTok. We see people who look perfect, whose houses are spotless, and who seem to live in permanent sunshine. They are "sugar people." They have no substance because they can’t afford to let a single drop of reality touch them.
📖 Related: Ace of Base All That She Wants: Why This Dark Reggae-Pop Hit Still Haunts Us
Asimov was accidentally predicting the fragility of the "perfect" persona. When George Wright says the final line of the story—"Heavens, they're made of sugar!"—he isn't just stating a fact. He's realizing that the perfection he was jealous of was actually a death sentence.
Breaking Down the Narrative Style
Asimov’s prose here is incredibly lean. He doesn't waste words on flowery descriptions of the amusement park. He focuses on the tension.
- The Barometer: The Sakkaros aren't just checking the weather; they are vibrating with anxiety.
- The Cotton Candy: It’s the only thing they can eat safely. Think about that. Eating your own kind. It’s a subtle, creepy detail.
- The Wrights’ Perspective: By keeping us in the heads of the "normal" people, Asimov makes the Sakkaros feel truly alien.
The pacing is frantic toward the end. The car ride home is a race against a thunderhead. You can feel the humidity in the writing. You can feel the Wrights’ annoyance turning into genuine confusion.
Critics often categorize this as "Suburban Gothic." It takes the safe, boring world of the picket fence and injects something impossible into it. It’s the same energy as Shirley Jackson’s The Lottery, just with a sci-fi twist.
Common Misconceptions About the Story
I've seen some weird theories online. No, the Sakkaros aren't robots. Asimov wrote a lot about robots, but these folks are purely biological—just... sugar-based.
Some people think it’s a metaphor for the Cold War. The idea being that the "outsiders" (the Sakkaros) are hiding a secret that makes them incompatible with American life. While Asimov definitely lived through the Red Scare, this story feels much more personal and whimsical than a political allegory. It’s a "what if" story. What if people were literally water-soluble?
How to Teach or Analyze Asimov’s Short Fiction
If you're a student or just a giant nerd, looking at Rain Rain Go Away by Isaac Asimov is a masterclass in the "Short-Short" format.
👉 See also: '03 Bonnie and Clyde: What Most People Get Wrong About Jay-Z and Beyoncé
- Look for the "Plant and Payoff": The mentions of the Sakkaro's kitchen being spotlessly clean and their avoidence of the water fountain aren't random. They are the "plants." The melting is the "payoff."
- Study the Dialogue: George and Lillian talk like a real married couple. They bicker. George is a bit cynical; Lillian is the social butterfly. This grounding in reality makes the ending hit harder.
- The Twist: Asimov was the king of the final-sentence twist. He doesn't give you a five-page epilogue. He gives you the punchline and gets out.
Actionable Insights for Readers and Writers
If you've just finished reading the story or you're planning to write something similar, here is how you can apply Asimov's "Sakkaro" logic to your own work or life.
For Writers: The Art of the Reveal
Don't over-explain your monsters. The Sakkaros are scarier because we don't know where they came from. If Asimov had spent three paragraphs explaining their home planet, the mystery would be gone. Keep the "why" hidden and focus on the "what."
For Readers: Finding Hidden Gems
If you liked this, don't stop here. Asimov wrote hundreds of short stories. Look for The Last Question if you want something existential, or The Ugly Little Boy if you want something that will actually make you cry.
For the Curious: Check the Weather
Next time you see a neighbor who seems a little too perfect, maybe check their barometer. Or offer them a glass of water. If they look at it like it’s a loaded gun, you might just be living next to a Sakkaro.
To truly appreciate the craft, find a physical copy of Buy Jupiter and Other Stories. There is something about reading these 1950s tales in their original collected format that makes the "melting" scene feel even more visceral. Look at the way Asimov uses the weather not just as a backdrop, but as the primary antagonist. It's a reminder that in great fiction, the environment should always be a character.
Go back and re-read the first page. Now that you know the ending, the Sakkaros' behavior isn't just "weird"—it's a desperate struggle for survival. That shift in perspective is exactly why this story remains a staple of American literature. It demands a second look.
Next Steps for Deep Diving into Asimov:
- Locate a copy of Fantastic Universe (1959): If you are a collector, seeing the original illustrations for this story adds a whole new layer of mid-century dread.
- Compare with "The Veldt" by Ray Bradbury: Both stories deal with the dark side of "perfect" family life during the same era.
- Research the "Sakkaro" Etymology: Look into how Asimov used scientific terminology to hide spoilers in plain sight throughout his "Black Widowers" mysteries and other shorts.