Then, a crack split the sky. It wasn't lightning. It was glass.
The sky above Planet Drool had turned the color of a forgotten bruise. the adventures sharkboy and lavagirl
He was right. All around them, half-formed thoughts drifted like jellyfish: a flying bicycle with square wheels, a talking sandwich arguing with a spoon, a mountain made entirely of unmailed birthday cards. They were fading. Dying. Then, a crack split the sky
“It’s better,” the boy said.
“Lava-Shark,” she whispered.