Word: misted
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...sultry and intoxicating, as was her partner, Jaime Diaz. And was there ever a Dew Drop who lived up so greatly to her name as Misa Kuranaga? Backed by a corps de ballet of lanky, tall flowers, the slight Kuranaga seemed to float among them like a drop of mist. Not every performance was as stunning, however. As the Sugar Plum Fairy, Larissa Ponomarenko was very pretty and precise, but a bit too elusive, and her chilled rapport with Roman Rykine as her Cavalier did not help. Nevertheless, there is something about seeing a glittering pink tutu and satin pink...
...roar of Flight 90's engines. He thought nothing of it; hundreds of planes every day take off from National and head out over the bridge. But this time was different. Creger watched in horror as the blue-and-green jetliner suddenly appeared out of the gray mist. The plane slammed into the crowded bridge, smashed five cars and a truck and then skidded into the frozen river. "It was falling from the sky, coming right at me," recalls Creger. "It hit the bridge and just kept on going like a rock into the water." He remembers that...
...looked away from the house, it was a peaceful night. The dark sky was dotted with stars in the way that only the sky over a British moor could be. A cool mist crept over the purple hills toward her, and she longed for it to hurry, it looked so fresh and cleansing...
...convoy of 18 SUVs pulls to a halt on the narrow road above Sanjiang, Wenchuan county, Sichuan, the gleeful shrieks of an excited crowd float upwards through the autumnal mist. The vehicles have made the three-hour journey from the provincial capital Chengdu, spending two hours of it crawling through countryside affected by the cataclysmic earthquake in May. We say countryside - in fact, the view through the windows is an unsettling inversion of what the term normally evokes. Giant fissures sunder the hills and there are yawning voids where roads should be. Broad swaths of boulders and debris remain...
...water with a slap. “Frederick! My mountain flower!” Roxanna shrieked. She ran down the hill and dove in after him. Roxanna could still hear the melancholy last notes of “hey nonny, hey nonny,” lingering in the mist when the cold water closed around her. She had seen Frederick’s pale tear-stained face sink beneath the billowing waves and went in search of him. She realized, too late, as the bottom disappeared from beneath her feet, that she did not know how to swim...