From every-which-way, from the sky, from the ground, from within the best of their hearts, the Moons and the park warden, if we are still to be a generous as to elevate him to such a position, could feel and hear and, strangely, smell the sound.
It ruptured the silent pause that the warden had created with his dithering and ended with a silence. A far more uncomfortable, sharp and horrifying silence.
It wasn’t a sound that would be familiar, or well known. It was just a sound of nothing. It was the sound that no one ever heard, but everyone would hear but once in their lives.
The sky grew dark all at once, a bleak black to match the ominous tone. Only one match of light remind, the Moons and the warden discovered when they filed outside, and even this was not of colour.
A dark grey hung in the air, the centre of the bleakness and it seemed to be opening out, only I did not reveal the blue sky behind, instead it showed a different grey. A muddy silver and instantaneously, Keith knew what it was.
His family realised a moment later when a grey-blue beam of some sort of light like substances radiated from the bottom of the grey machine. Firing down with the precision of a laser, it bathed the glass crocodile for a moment and then it, and the crocodile were gone, so fast, Keith’s hands clapped closed.
Harry Daniel 