Madison's Meteor

Until the meteor fell, nothing notable had happened in the town of Madison since the year of its founding. The night it fell started cold and snowy. Nobody with any sense was out and about except for Frank Madison. He was sitting on the icy metal seat of his old Ford tractor driving toward the first of the driveways that he would blow out so that the owners of over sized piles of bricks would be able to drive their Mercedes and Jaguars off to their cushy jobs in the city. None of them gave Frank a second thought unless he was late with the tractor.

Frank had so many layers on that he had difficulty moving. It wasn't much of a problem since he was used to it now. It did mean that he had to look straight forward. That was why he saw the shadows first. They stretched in front of him as if one of those big rigs that used to come to the plant had plumped down in the middle of the road behind him. He couldn't turn to look back so he just prayed that death would be quick. At least he wouldn't be so damned cold anymore.

The shadows shortened, but the crash didn't come. Instead a ball of fire streaked over his head and smashed into the frozen field on his right. Frank felt a wave of warm wash over him and without thinking about it he turned the tractor into the field. The bumps and dips of the frozen furrows beneath the snow almost tossed him from his seat, but he persevered until he parked on the edge of a small crater that steamed with melted and rapidly refreezing snow.

At the bottom of the crater a large rock glowed vivid orange. It dimmed to red as Frank watched, then even the red faded leaving an ugly black rock that looked a little like the cinders on the rail line. Heaving himself from the tractor, Frank pulled out the chain that he used to rescue the cars that landed in the ditch outside his ramshackle farm.

The heat was incredible, but he managed to get a loop of chain around the rock. It took most of the rest of the night, but Frank managed to get the rock so it hung from the bucket in front of his tractor. He had peeled most of his layers off and was able to twist and look back as he reversed the old tractor out of the field onto the road.

The snow had stopped and the night was stunningly clear. Screw the Fat Cats thought Frank, I'm going home. He was shivering as he parked the tractor in his shed, but he still took the time to untangle the chain and leave the rock in a corner of the shed covered over with a tarp. It was cool enough now that he could touch it. The warmth from the rock suffused him and his shivering stopped.

He felt reborn.