A sneaker—that is to say, a bird that flushed without the customary whirr—he was quite apt to miss.
A sneaker was a small drinking-glass, used by moderate drinkers—sneak-cups they were called.
The wet ground sucked at his sneaker and he tipped back on his ass with a yelp.
Andy noticed that the sneaker was worn out and had a hole in the toe, and that it was only laced up halfway.
The message is the sneaker, or whatever will take over, for its own short turn in the glory of consumption, the world.
Klinker picked up a "sneaker" from the floor and hurled it with deadly precision at a weight-and-pulley across the room.