Word: squatly
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...island of dust in a sea of green fields. The village is bordered on two sides by a tiny canal that is shaded by weeping willows, but the water is gray with filth and refuse. Dressed in knee-length tunics and pantaloons, the women of the village squat at the canal's edge to do their laundry and wash their pots and pans in the turbid, disease-infested water...
...treason and insurrection, former Dictator George Papadopoulos acted as if he still considered himself the most powerful man in Greece. Slavishly deferential, Papadopoulos' 19 co-defendants in the trial at Korydallos Prison on the outskirts of Athens referred to him as "Mr. President." When talking to reporters, the squat, jaunty Papadopoulos assured them that he would not be in jail for long. Disdainfully refusing to enter a plea in his defense, he crowed, "I shall answer only to history and the Greek people." To which Court President Ioannis Deyannis replied, his small sharp features pinched in anger...
Daniel, Bridget and I followed Peg up to his tiny, one-room cabin. A loaded shot-gun and squat, scoped hunting rifle hung over the door, a long-necked banjo and the Thompson over the bed. Peg turned on his tape deck, gave Peanut a piece of licorice, and pulled out the Thompson's clip: 90 rounds a minute of bloated, stumpy bullets. Peanut cried and Pegleg picked his banjo and Daniel got down on the floor where the child was and then wasn't when her mother picked her up, and said how she had the life and wasn...
...WERE UP early the next morning and the road looked bad and slow. Finally a battered old tank slowed down--stalled to a standstill--and we were on our way, for at least a couple of hundred miles. Our driver was a squat, hairy toothless Canadian freak. He laughed like a leprechaun--in great volumes of uncontagious cackles--and he cursed his car at every knock. He wouldn't put it over 50 mph and the hard-iron hills of Nevada clanked by slowly. Huge white letters were carved into the hills--the only signs to tell one town from...
...threaten shopkeepers, then take whatever they wish. Children who sell gasoline by the pint fight among themselves to pour their wine bottle's worth into the tank of a car for a few hundred riels, about 300. The homeless, the maimed, the wretched, the exhausted squat on the streets, huddle under makeshift canvas stalls...