The noise at the party made every object ache and ring.

The heavy snow made the landscape suffer.

It was silly, but the snow tasted sweet.

He decided he could trust the ice, but then it boomed.

He cursed, but realized it had been years since there had been a reason for the set to be clean.

They were scattered; he crouched but the button wasn't anywhere.

There were only acorns on the street.

His top button popped off his coat.

The Bell Atlantic man parked at the seawall for a sandwich and cigarette and fell asleep.

The whole day is useful.

He didn't want what she wanted, and when she realized that, she didn't want it either.

My submachine gun panted.

Behind the aquarium a heap of brownish squids rested on the dock, ten feet from the bag whose bottom had split and spilled them there.

Butter, especially too much butter, reminds me of serious winter and kitchens and sleep.

A new tooth that I have been hiding for years in my gums has surfaced, letting out some blood and making the idea of eating hard-crusted bread thrilling but impossible.