It is the middle of a sunny summer day.
I am running down the stairs,
quickly and excitedly,
with my neighbours following me.
We all want to see the Sun.
It just fell down in the front yard.
I saw it coming down,
like an overripe cantaloupe,
staining the sky
with sticky, succulent golden juices.
There it is,
lying on the ground,
a giant orange,
flattening the grass it landed on,
squirting its warm essence
all over our bodies.
The neighbourhood dogs
are running around,
barking at this strange visitor.
I approach it warily.
I touch it.
It is warm and beautiful,
glistening in the mid-noon light.
I remember well feelings of
amazement, incredulity, inexplicable joy
overwhelming me,
and the comical expressions of confusion
on the faces of my neighbours.
