The Hodges Meteorite

This week, our esteemed colleague Andy Duncan debuts a meteoric play on the Sunday Morning Transport stage.

~ Julian and Fran, November 9, 2025

November’s Sunday Morning Transport arrives with a bounty of stories by Benjamin C. Kinney, Kelly Lagor, Andy Duncan, and J.R. Dawson. As always, the first story of the month is free to read.

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The Hodges Meteorite

By Andy Duncan

SETTING: The living room of ANN’s house, 1956

AT RISE: Two empty chairs and, to one side, the actor playing the METEORITE, who sits on the floor holding a grapefruit-sized rock.

METEORITE

Four and a half billion years I orbited the sun, and for what? To become the oldest doorstop in Talladega County, Alabama. That’s the universe for you.

(We hear ANN and WALTER conversing offstage, as from a hallway. Their conversation continues as they enter. They do not glance at the METEORITE when it speaks. The METEORITE does not look at them at all.)

WALTER

I see you’ve replaced the roof. The relevant corner, anyway.

ANN

Wasn’t none of my doing. Birdie, our landlady, paid for it—though she sure didn’t want to—and some hired men did the work.

(She considers this a moment.)

I reckon they were men. You won’t catch women on a roof.

WALTER

(Looking up, as at the ceiling)

I thought from the beginning, there was surprisingly little damage. I’ve seen much worse caused by hailstones.

ANN

All the damage was to me. And my radio. It used to sit right there. We never did replace it. The mister said, if we’re gonna throw away good money, we might’s well get a television like everybody else, at least be wasteful like modern people. So what we got now is nothing.

WALTER

You have each other.

ANN

(No response but a look of disgust)

Sit down, Dr. Jones.

WALTER

Thank you.

(They both sit.)

ANN

Even Guiding Light has moved to TV. That was my favorite of all the stories. I don’t suppose you keep up with that one?

WALTER

Well, uh, no, ma’am, I don’t. I’m pretty busy during the day, with the Geological Survey and the museum and all.

ANN

I wonder how poor Kathy is getting along. She’s my favorite on that story. Was in a wheelchair, last I saw. Lord, that child. Everything in the world seemed to happen to her.

WALTER

I bet she was never hit by a meteorite!

(WALTER laughs loudly. ANN and the METEORITE do not join in.)

Sorry.

METEORITE

What an asshole.

ANN

I’m glad there’s some can laugh about it. They laughed at me on I’ve Got a Secret, too.

WALTER

Oh, I saw that. They weren’t laughing at you, not really. Faye Emerson guessed yours, didn’t she?

ANN

Guessed it right off. Recognized me from Life magazine. They gave me eighty dollars prize money and a carton of Cavaliers, but the mister don’t smoke that kind. I never did have the luck.

WALTER

Oh, but you were lucky, Mrs. Hodges! Why, if you hadn’t been covered by two thick quilts, and if the meteorite hadn’t been slowed by the roof and the ceiling and the radio, you could have gotten much worse than a bruise on your thigh—I mean, ah, on your upper leg. You could have been seriously hurt.

ANN

(Incredulous)

Where did you say you went to school?