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It is Maple Street, a quiet, tree-lined, residential street in a typical American town. The houses have front porches where people sit and talk to each other across their lawns.STEVE BRAND polishes his car parked in front of his house. His neighbor, DON MARTIN, leans against the fender, watching him. A Good Humor man rides a bicycle and is just stopping to sell some ice cream to a couple of kids. Two women gossip on the front lawn. Another man waters his lawn.
At this moment one of the boys, TOMMY, looks up and listens to the sound of a tremendous roar from overhead. A flash of light plays on his face, then moves down the street past lawns and porches and rooftops, and then disappears. STEVE BRAND, the man who has been polishing his car, stands there speechless, staring upwards. He looks at DON MARTIN, his neighbor from across the street.
Steve: What was that? A meteor?
Don: That's what it looked like. I didn't hear any crash, though, did you?
Steve: Nope, I didn't hear anything except a roar.
