There’s a meteorite in my school’s library. Over half of the people who walk through the door don’t notice it, and probably never will. It just sits quietly in a display case on the lower floor. People pass by and don’t stop to wonder. A huge chunk of dull grey metal from outer space.
I stop today, and examined it for the third time. I read the description, and one of the lines caught my eye. “Almost every ‘shooting star’ you see at night is actually a meteor. When a meteor hits Earth it’s called a meteorite.”
I pause thoughtfully, pressing my hands to the clear glass. And then I imagine the piece of metal before me heating up, glowing red-orange as it hurtles through our atmosphere, finally making contact with our planet in a cloud of dirt and debris.
A boy walks up next to me and says, “Cool....” Of course, people usually notice things when someone else is looking at it. I stare at him, turn, and walk back to my place in the quiet library. And the meteorite sits there, glinting dully under the fluorescent lights, just waiting to be noticed again.
I stop today, and examined it for the third time. I read the description, and one of the lines caught my eye. “Almost every ‘shooting star’ you see at night is actually a meteor. When a meteor hits Earth it’s called a meteorite.”
I pause thoughtfully, pressing my hands to the clear glass. And then I imagine the piece of metal before me heating up, glowing red-orange as it hurtles through our atmosphere, finally making contact with our planet in a cloud of dirt and debris.
A boy walks up next to me and says, “Cool....” Of course, people usually notice things when someone else is looking at it. I stare at him, turn, and walk back to my place in the quiet library. And the meteorite sits there, glinting dully under the fluorescent lights, just waiting to be noticed again.
guardianofthestars
aladine_98
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