From the Sky Rained

Sunchips.

There were only a few when she went outside, scattered on the sidewalk and the street. Erica thought they might be debris from a truck, or careless street kids. She picked one up, and examined the expiration date; then something brushed the back of her head, and she turned to look.

Another bag of Sunchips, falling to the ground.

Erica looked up.

As far as she could see, upwards and in all directions, Sunchips were wafting down to earth.

She took a few - just for proof, she told herself, though later she ate a few. But the first thing she did was to tell her flat-mates, who stared incredulously. Then the police, who seemed disbelieving initially; then, minutes later, they called back with businesslike apologies, telling Erica that the whole matter would be sorted out shortly.

Sunchips covered the ground.

And they kept falling.

Street teams began to scour the neighborhood, getting the Sunchips off the streets - initially to the trash then, as the volume grew and publicity, to food banks. They started out on foot; then they got cars; then sweeping machines.

Erica stocked up on supplies. She noticed that the shelves on the grocery were growing bare.

The Sunchips drifted down. Now every day was shady.

Frito-Lay, manufacturer of Sunchips, screamed about the dilution of brand and the oversupply of one of its more profitable line of chips. Local congressmen promised to form a committee to discuss its concerns.

The street teams were overwhelmed. Erica and her flatmates began to include among their household chores the job of sweeping off the front walkway every day so they could get to their cars.

Lawns withered and died.

Eventually Erica moved out of the Sunchip-blessed town, sick of the work and the taste, and (more importantly) offered a better job a state away. But the news still mentioned it occasionally, and she kept in contact with her friends, who provided her regular updates on the town; its rechristening, its troubles (hilarious to anyone outside the town), its attempts to use Sunchips as building material. (Ineffective.)

And to this day, Sunchips continue to rain from the sky. Perhaps some day they'll stop; but on that day, we will lose a little of the wonder in the world.