by Allison Symes
Nothing was said about this in the manual. Jack blinked. He hadn't been
mistaken. The purple dinosaur was there and it didn't look happy. Still, Jack
knew he had to report these things so he tapped his supervisor's number out on
It took several minutes for Jack to stop repeating his description of the beast and longer still for the supervisor to stop swearing. The purple dinosaur was munching its way through what had been the supermarket.
At least demolishing the contents of the butcher's counter was keeping the creature occupied and its attention away from Jack. He felt this was good news. Jack's supervisor felt differently - his cousin was the butcher at that supermarket. It was made clear Jack was disposable.
Jack hung up. If he didn't resolve this, he'd be eaten or, if he survived, sacked. If he did resolve it, the supervisor wouldn't mind having the call cut off.
He saw the dinosaur had finished the meat. The next aisle contained the veg.
It won’t want that, Jack thought. I never do. Still, if a creature comes through from the next world, it can jolly well go back there again and at speed. We don't want his sort here.
‘Come here, boy,’ Jack did a quick check, ‘sorry, girl. This world is no place for you.’
Jack took a flare out from his tool belt and fired it above the dinosaur. It roared and ran back through the gaping hole in dimensions its body had blocked from Jack's view.
Jack sighed. He'd have to fix that too.