Head awash with watery aromas and fear – my five year-old would hate me – I wrapped my arms around the bowl. “Sonny's Christmas present... I promised him –”
Multi-coloured lights rippled a scary Christmas. The hut shuddered. The goldfish bowl teetered near the bench’s edge. The air chilled. We crashed to our knees. White noise and high-pitched tones paralysed us. X-ray blue light illuminated too much of Sarge – inside and out.