Excerpt:

Josh gets hit in the head by the rock from space. That's right. A rock. From space. Nobody knows what the fuck.

It happened at 8:15am in the morning, I wasn't there, but it's not difficult to imagine. Josh, bleary-eyed from one late night too many, slumped against the bus stop because he never learnt to drive. No doubt dreading the week of work ahead. Headphones plugged in. Music blaring. He never would have heard the shouts of the school children across the street. He didn't see their frantic pointing, or the tiny shadow on the ground, expanding in tandem with the black dot in the sky. The rock, no bigger than a fist, shot straight past Josh's radar and embedded in his head.

Witnesses said he didn't die straight away. He lay motionless on the curb as the blood and life ebbed out of him and he smiled at the sky. Most people would take being hit with a rock from space pretty personally. It's an act of God. Far rarer than lightning. Personally, I'd be pretty pissed. But not Josh. He must have been thrilled. He would have felt special. And Josh loves all that science fiction shit.

*

When I first found out I thought it was hilarious. But only because I didn't know it was Josh. See, for the time being I work in a call centre where I try and sell insurance. It's a terrible job and I wound up there because of a whole number of stupid reasons, but I don't really want to talk about work right now. Anyway, this guy Jarrad that I work with, who's a pretty cool guy although sometimes annoying, well he looks up from his computer and he goes, “Hey Chloe, some dude got hit in the head and killed by a meteorite, like only a couple of suburbs from here”. And we both laugh, because it seems so unlikely and ridiculous. And we speculate as to whether or not he'd be covered by one of our insurance policies, which are a total rip off by the way – seriously, don't ever even consider one.

I called Josh to tell him about the loser that got hit in the head by the meteorite a block from his house but Josh doesn't answer. I call Josh a lot from work because I'm always bored. So, I text Josh and tell him he's a stupid prick for not answering his phone. It's only later when I hear that the guy was standing at a bus stop that I start to really wonder. A quick call to Josh's father confirms the worst. I cry. I get the afternoon off work. Jarrad drives me home. That part's a blur.

At home I curl on my bed and I continue to cry and cry and cry. And it's a selfish sort of crying, because I'm convinced that Josh would have been fine with it, and I feel sorry for me. And I'm scared for me too. I'm scared by how completely random it all is, and how it could have been me, although I would never catch the bus, not even on a dare. And then I think about how on some mornings I swing past Josh's place and drive him to work, and if I'd driven him this morning then he'd still be alive and someone else would have died and I could have called him up and laughed about it. But I can't feel guilty about that, I mustn't, because Josh was by and large a lazy fuck and he'd had plenty of opportunities to get his license.

I've been calling Brad non stop since I found out the news but the receptionist keeps telling me that he's in a meeting. Normally she treats me with contempt but today she's vague and distant like something far more important is happening in the room. “But this is important,” I blurt through tears, “My friend is dead!” but she isn't really listening and my melodrama is wasted.

It's 8.15pm when Brad finally pulls up in my driveway. Josh has been dead for twelve whole hours. Brad storms through the door and he gives me some roses, which just goes to show that while he's kind of the worst boyfriend ever, he's also sort of the best boyfriend too.

We sit out on the porch and he holds me and he wipes my face, and once my sobs subside he paces around the lawn and looks up at the stars. It's no secret that Brad is less interested in Josh and more interested in the rock.

“A rock from space,” Brad says. “No. I don't like that all.”

I really should explain. Brad is a scientist. No. A super scientist He's smart and strong and he's completely without humour. Which is why I'd hang out with Josh all the time, because Josh at least was funny, even though he was a total dork, and a loser, and he was annoying a lot of the time. But Josh is gone now, so it's just Brad. And Brad has prospects anyway. I mean, Brad is really going places. He's only eight years older than I am but he's at the top of his field. I couldn't even tell you what it is he does because I don't really understand it, but he makes a shitload of money. Even double what you're thinking. The only problem is that he has to work all the time.

“I've got to get back to work,” Brad says.

I burst into tears again. “But I'm all upset about death!”

“I know, Sweetie. But this...” Brad points to the sky. “This has ramifications. I need to look into this. And it's going to take some time.”

“But what if a space rock hits me?”

“That's why I've got to go back to work, baby. To make sure that never happens. Why don't you try and get some sleep?”

“I can't sleep!”

“Why don't you play your Wii?”

“I hate my Wii!”

Brad really has to go. He kisses my nose.

Josh and I used to love playing that Wii.