Tonight, I saw a point of light in the sky.
It could have been a burning ball of hydrogen, millions of miles across, and trillions of miles away. But I knew it wasn't a star, because it was much too bright.
It could have been a ball of rock, brightly reflecting sunlight off its clouds of acid. But I knew it wasn't Venus, because it was moving much too quickly.
It could have been a bit of dust, falling to the earth a hundred times as fast as a speeding bullet. But I knew it wasn't a meteor, because it lasted much too long.
It was a structure the size of a football field, made of aluminum, titanium and silicon, over two hundred miles above our heads, always falling, but always missing the ground, current home to six. It was the International Space Station.