Satellites

Susan was surprised to find a crater where her home should have been. According to her neighbours the satellite had hit the street just a few minutes earlier. She gazed into the smouldering hole and thought about all her things, the jewelry in her bedside cabinet that was now probably a molten pool of metal, the brand new TV which had been converted into a fine powder at the bottom of the hole which used to be her house.

At first the insurance company claimed that the collision was an act of God which they could not cover, though eventually she convinced the bloke in the call centre that satellites were created by men rather than deities.

“Do you have the vehicle’s registration number?” asked the man in the call centre (it crossed her mind that he had mentioned his name, was it Neil? Susan decided to avoid using his name in case she had it wrong.) She did not have the vehicle’s registration number. “Well then I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do” said Neil “You should have taken the other party’s details before they left the scene of the accident”

She tried calling NASA but they weren’t much help either, they claimed they didn’t have any missing satellites and certainly couldn’t help if she didn’t know what model or even what colour the satellite had been. “I’ll have to check with one of my colleagues” said the lady from NASA “let me put you on hold.”

“Shit” said Susan, checking her watch. At this rate she would miss her husband’s funeral.