Saturday, January 5, 2019

Week in Seven Words #444

accompany
When we take the dog for a walk, she trots open-mouthed, tongue lolling, and glances behind her every minute or so to check that we're all still there, not just the person holding the leash, but all of us, her pack of humans.

café
Ice crackling in a plastic cup, silverware rattling, a stream of tables with people chattering.

frantically
A dog tied outside the grocery store lurches to the end of his leash with eyes popping as each person who isn't his owner emerges.

gouache
The river is pink, gray, and yellow as the day fades.

masking
Her bright anecdotes are a barely adequate cover for her unease.

opposite
When she takes my passport photo, she tells me not to smile, so of course I smile and have a hard time stopping.

snaking
It's a sinuous trail. It dips in and out of the trees, bumps against the water, then flings itself inland through tall grass.