Sam drags his feet to school, swinging his rucksack back and forth over the rough path that bisects the field behind his house. Right then the sound becomes audible enough to notice, grows quickly from a hum to a growl. He sees a light in the sky, burning towards him, growing larger as the noise grows louder, blossoms into a sustained boom that threatens to crack the sky. He puts his hand up to protect his face. The meteor, for that is what Sam later discovers it is, strikes him, slicing a scar into the back of his hand before knocking him down. He lands, dazed and utterly alive, staring at the pea sized rock that sits in a foot wide crater punched into the ground.
Decades from now, Sam will hold his dying wife’s hand and weep. He will cling to the weak pulse that resonates from palm to palm, squeezing tighter as if doing so will keep the old woman from leaving. It is then Sam’s eyes will alight on his childhood scar and for just a moment he will marvel that the impact of this moment hurts in so many more ways than his collision, so long ago, with a chunk of rock that fell upon him from space.