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Wit's End, Wit's Beginning
It was a frothing torrent of metaphysical changes.
The meteor, upon hitting the Earth's atmosphere, became a meteorite, which blazed through the atmosphere for a bit, making an impressive evening even more impressive for a couple sitting out on a hill where they'd simply forgotten to end their picnic when it grew dark out, something to tell the kids about later, at any rate, as so far they'd had very little they would feel comfortable telling the kids about, the same kids who were at home eating far too many chocolate bars by the babysitter who'd been not tipped as heartily as she might have liked the last time she babysat, hence the extra chocolate.
It also made a blip across an observatory's radar, and was video-taped for posterity by the observatory's video equipment usually just for that sort of purpose (though there were deep suspicions someone in the lab had used it for video-taping something slightly different than the heavenly spheres and the occasional misshapen formerly-heavenly bodies that were on their way quickly to Earth - there was nothing to back up these suspicions, nor was anyone in particular suspected, but the suspicious atmosphere hung about the office like a big billowy cloud of suspicion that made it difficult to breathe and no one was quite sure if it was safe to smoke near clouds of suspicion, so they usually took cigarette breaks outside, just in case). No one rang the President or the Prime Minister or the Emperor as they had none of their 'phone numbers, nor did the meteorite pose a significant threat to the Earth, in general, so they figured it was best they left well enough alone and stopped ringing people and putting them in a general panic. The bearded astronmer went back to playing Solitaire on his computer.
After becoming a meteorite the former meteor/present meteorite and generally fast moving rock became an inert rock, sitting in a pile of very disturbed soil and things that had formerly been tarmac outside a drive-through window and slightly above that an automobile and a now extremely squished packet of fish and chips parked at the drive-through window, whose driver had gone inside through the drive-through window in the course of a rather animated argument about the quantity of chips that came with the fish and chips. The argument, of course, came to a swift close as the man lying across the counter near the drive-through window yanked his feet into the restaurant and bits of glass, mushy fish and chip bits, melting plastic, and a few shards of rock followed him through the window. People, for their part, rushed both into and out of the restaurant, in both cases to get a better view or to get to safety, and it was strangely comforting that both groups, those that went inside for either a better view or safety and those that went outside for either a better view or for safety felt considerably happier for having done something, though they had nagging feelings that perhaps they were best off where they'd been just prior.
Given Time, the now inert rock became dirt, probably, eventually by erosion and by little kids clambering all over it, which is itself also a kid of erosion.
The people at the back of the queue for the drive-through began honking.
disclaimer:
So I'm in London.
I feel a bit like that bit in Wayne's World when Wayne and Garth are standing in front of the picture of Delaware and go, "We're in Delaware."
Which is probably the first time Wayne's World has been mentioned in Sane Magazine. Which I'm sure the Head Editor will be ecstatic about when he gets back.
Anyway, physical dislocation and not entirely accurate analogy aside, the serial that had been roaring steadily on for the past few weeks will be continued next week.
And back to the physical dislocation:
Unlike Wayne's World I'm not wearing a baseball cap, nor am I likely to play air guitar at any point soon.
While Matt goes off and attempts to finally get God Coffee off and done with, I'm hanging out in London, working on my own latest novel, which has been plugged ad nauseum here, so I won't do it again now.
London, it turns out, is remarkably unlike Delaware. Or so I'd imagine, as I've never been to Delaware. Or, if I have, I don't remember it at all, really. Past maybe the observation that it has roads, as I'm guessing that's how I made it through there.
At any rate, more fantastic and exciting observations just like that one as I serve out my sentence here in London and work on avoiding finishing my own book.
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Yer Weekly Horoscopes. Plonk.