Roswell

Like a dying fire the sky roared orange, softened to a pale rose, and faded into the smoky blue of twilight. Crickets chirped while the last of the day’s burning embers cooled into nighttime ash. A new star appeared over the high plains of New Mexico, the first faint dab of light on a darkening heavenly canvas. It glowed brighter and brighter as it expanded, doubling in size with every passing second. Suddenly the cosmic fireball hurtled over the plain, dropping fast in its hellish track across the sky, its shrill whistle drowning out the song of the crickets.

The earth shook with the star’s violent crash. The crickets paused, waited for the rumbling to cease. Silence overtook the plain.

Then, a single, hesitant chirp.