Word: lit
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...order among a host of rowdy toddlers with the other. All this, and yet they unfailingly find time to philosophize about topics ranging from moral responsibilities to the meaning of happiness and self-fulfillment. Talk about desperately hitting readers over the head with a hammer: This Is Not Chick Lit!And, inevitably, the Stepford lives of these women are interlaced with deeper hidden issues—much like “The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood” and “Desperate Housewives,” though without the drugs and debauchery. Talented Juliet, who once...
...into darkness, and the music stops. Then the lights hit the stage, the music throbs again, and the first model steps down the runway. Our pulses are likewise thrown into a state of hyper-excitement. Heads turn in sync, following each model’s graceful strut down the lit up path. They strike pose after pose for the mound of photographers at the head of the runway, assaulted by the whirring and flashing of cameras.As for the clothing, Bartlett uses three main palettes: beige, brown and green, and black with red. Each palette is accompanied by a different unrecognizable...
...Katyusha rockets and Kalashnikov rifles, however, weren't on the menu. The Middle Eastern equivalent of the diplomatic rubber-chicken dinner consists of about a dozen Arab courses of grilled meats, hummus, and stuffed vegetables served in a brightly lit hall, male guests outnumbering women by around...
...most of their cutting and smashing, a radio set was broadcasting revolutionary songs based on Mao's quotations. A female voice was singing, ''Marxism can be summed up in one sentence: revolution is justifiable.'' Through a window I saw bright, leaping flames in the garden. A bonfire had been lit in the middle of the lawn. The Red Guards were standing around the fire tossing my books onto the flames. My heart tightened with pain. Several Red Guards began hammering on the furniture and breaking my records. I said to a teacher, ''These records are classical music by the great...
...trout on the line. The soldiers' weapons bristled from the sides of the jeeps, and they wore heavy, stone-proof hard plastic helmets with wraparound clear visors that hid their faces -- a space- alien effect. ''We should go back to see what happens,'' the passenger said, unthinkingly. The driver lit a fresh cigarette from the one now burning down to his fingertips and drove impassively on, away from the violence. No, the shabab would think we had brought the army back with us. Anyway the driver knew, roughly, what would happen. The territories had been living for months...