At first, his mood expands to generosity. Then it contracts to a tight anger that makes the air difficult to breathe. The anger doesn't last long. It gradually lightens into an occasional snide remark, delivered with a smile.
The dance of candlelight in a dark room.
Images from Blue Planet play out in front of me while the dentist scrapes away at my teeth.
He clutches a handkerchief to his mouth and looks around furtively, after coughing in a way that brings to mind the expression 'patient zero.'
During foosball, we both adopt the 'random spasm' strategy, meaning that we don't know who will hit the ball or when or where, but sometimes a goal happens anyway.
I slip back into a bad habit, but it doesn't last as long this time. I can step out of its clutches more quickly.
He's a happy, loved little boy. Helped along in his walking, he looks around to see who's watching him carry out this amazing feat.