It looked like a man, but it moved like a toad.
Izzy flattened herself to the grass outside the Buttons backyard, hoping to see and not be seen. The crouching toady man, as she rightly dubbed him, he was looking up at the stars with big glassy eyes, filled with sadness. She almost asked him “what was the matter?” but then she thought better of revealing her hiding spot.
The toady man reached his impossibly large arm up to the McFinn’s front door, and angrily knocked with a thwop! thwop! thwop! ——-There was silence, and not a so much as a porch light flicked on. Unsatisfied with this response, the toady man began whaling on the door with all his might–so long, that the door began to splinter like a boardwalk.
Being the only witness to this fury made Izzy pee her favorite pair of jeans. Her soiled pants depleted what little courage she had left, so, slowly, she began crawling on all fours back to the safety of her yard–hoping to pull the gate closed behind her, but as she pulled, the hinges squeaked their rusty coils.