[ WP ] The sky is falling , and you are an old man

Gerald sat on his back porch, staring contentedly at his back yard, a glass of iced tea slowly warming in the late afternoon sun. No thoughts crossed his mind, at his age thoughts were n't a necessity and only showed up when something of import hove itself in front of him. Two minutes or two hours, it did n't matter how long he'd sat there, he was enjoying the warmth, the sound of the light breeze, and not thinking. It was his favorite past time, aside from yelling at the TV. 
 
 His reverie was shattered with the sound of a whistle and a heavy thunk from the yard. Thoughts now came into his mind unbidden and without so much as an invitation. Probably just some neighbor kid threw a football too hard, he thought, it'll teach him a good lesson if he never gets it back. 
 
 With the slow grace of semi-warm marmalade, he unfolded himself from his high-backed rocking chair, achieved something that vaguely resembled an upright posture, and descended the short stairs to the grass that he so lovingly maintained. If a single blade is out of place, he thought again, there will be hell to pay. 
 
 An object sat in the middle of his yard, bits of dirt clung to it's sides, and it steamed quietly to itself. As Gerald inched closer, he could see that it was no football, that it appeared to be a hunk of glass, about the size of a cantaloupe. It's edges were sharp and showed signs of recent fracture, much the same way that old obsidian arrowheads do. Puzzled by this odd intrusion into his world, Gerald descended to his knees to examine it closer. He retrieved the ancient set of bifocals from his shirt pocket, wiping them with a corner of his handkerchief and placing them precariously on the end of his nose. 
 
 What he beheld was no ordinary bit of melted silica and soda ash. From deep within the glass came a cyan color of incredible intensity yet no direct source of illumination or focal point. It was as if the glass itself radiated blue, yet there was no single source from which the blue came. Tentatively, Gerald reached out a gnarled hand, and touched the material. It was warm, warm like bread fresh out of the over, yet also mildly electric. Gerald withdrew his hand and pondered some more. A passing airplane, perhaps? He craned his back as far as his advanced years would allow him to. 
 
 Nothing up there. A passing bird, and a leaf on the wind. He watched it soar for a moment, before it passed out of sight. 
 
 Just then, another whistle and thunk, this time of greater magnitude. A second piece, this one about the size of Gerald's TV, now lay in the freshly tilled earth of his garden. It, too, steamed and radiated the same incredible sky-blue color. 
 
 Sky blue. Another intrusive thought. 
 
 Gerald scanned the skies again, this time seeing something. A blackness, a small piece of nothing up there above his head. His wizened face scrunched up in thought, now that he needed thoughts none decided to show up. Ungrateful thoughts, oughta be ashamed of themselves. 
 
 As he stared into the black, he saw it suddenly grow bigger, and a glint move across the sky. The glint grew bigger and bigger, seeming to rush towards Gerald much like an old friend would, if Gerald had any old friends anymore. With a piercing shriek instead of a mild whistle, a much larger piece of glass plowed into the corner of Gerald's porch, a great crashing boom that sent pieces of wood flying everywhere, dirt splattering across the sides of the modest house, and the glass of iced tea somewhere into the neighbor's yard. Stunned and shocked, Gerald could not come up with any response other than to gape at what just happened. 
 
 He turned and looked upward at that black spot. Now long, thin, creeping black arms appeared to radiate out of the spot, ever widening, branching, reconnecting, splintering anew. A memory clicked to life in Gerald's mind, when he was 23 and went ice fishing with his father, and he got into an area where the ice was too thin. Watching the ice do the same thing, knowing that at any moment it would collapse and he would drown. The same fear of death he had then came to him now, his old heart racing with adrenaline, his hands shaking. A much larger piece now hurtled earthward, slamming with incredible force into his neighbors house, flattening it completely and knocking over the great old oak tree that had stood in front of the house for almost 200 years. Tears came from Gerald's eyes. The sky, literally, was falling down around him.
