There is a silver cylinder in the crop fields among the workers.

Wireman turned on his knees and held the silver cylinder out.

I rooted in my pocket and took out a handful of silver cylinders, the local money, let the light shine on them.

The great silver cylinder fell through the sky with fire at its base.

The silver cylinder glinted, the only spot of life in the room.

Khouri let it ring for a few seconds, one eye on the silver cylinder.

And there was a small silver cylinder, like a small oxygen bottle.

They looked into the melted spot and saw a silver cylinder lying on the dead grass.

A few minutes time, and the silver cylinder was safely stowed aboard.

He looked at the silver cylinder on his desk, moved to pick it up, but did not.