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    Wet Callous Wintry Several Dead Dark Black: Running Soddened Pushing

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    Arockia Raj
    A man runs through wet fields and hedges to reach a pond where he believes a woman's black clothing may be beneath the surface of the dead water. He wades into the deep, soft clay bottom of the pond, sinking further in up to his abdomen as the cold, rotten-smelling water rises over his body. Uncertain of the deep, soft bottom and unable to swim, the man fears pitching face-down into the foul-smelling water beneath the surface.

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    Wet Callous Wintry Several Dead Dark Black: Running Soddened Pushing

    Uploaded by

    Arockia Raj
    1 views1 page
    A man runs through wet fields and hedges to reach a pond where he believes a woman's black clothing may be beneath the surface of the dead water. He wades into the deep, soft clay bottom of the pond, sinking further in up to his abdomen as the cold, rotten-smelling water rises over his body. Uncertain of the deep, soft bottom and unable to swim, the man fears pitching face-down into the foul-smelling water beneath the surface.

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    A man runs through wet fields and hedges to reach a pond where he believes a woman's black clothing may be beneath the surface of the dead water. He wades into the deep, soft clay bottom of the pond, sinking further in up to his abdomen as the cold, rotten-smelling water rises over his body. Uncertain of the deep, soft bottom and unable to swim, the man fears pitching face-down into the foul-smelling water beneath the surface.

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    1 views1 page

    Wet Callous Wintry Several Dead Dark Black: Running Soddened Pushing

    Uploaded by

    Arockia Raj
    A man runs through wet fields and hedges to reach a pond where he believes a woman's black clothing may be beneath the surface of the dead water. He wades into the deep, soft clay bottom of the pond, sinking further in up to his abdomen as the cold, rotten-smelling water rises over his body. Uncertain of the deep, soft bottom and unable to swim, the man fears pitching face-down into the foul-smelling water beneath the surface.

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    © All Rights Reserved
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    of 1

    And he hastened straight down, running over

    the wet, soddened fields, pushing through the hedges,


    down into the depression of callous, wintry obscurity. It
    took him several minutes to come to the pond. He stood
    on the bank, breathing heavily. He could see nothing. His
    eyes seemed to penetrate the dead water. Yes, perhaps
    that was the dark shadow of her black clothing beneath
    the surface of the water.
    He slowly ventured into the pond. The bottom
    was deep, soft clay, then he sank in, and the water
    clasped . . . his legs. As he stirred he could smell
    the cold, rottenclay that fouled up into the water. It
    was objectionable in his lungs. Still, repelled and yet
    not heeding, he moved deeper into the pond.
    The cold water rose over his thighs, over his loins, upon
    his abdomen. The lower part of his body was all sunk in
    the hideous cold element. And the bottom was so
    deeply soft and uncertain, he was afraid of pitching with
    his mouth underneath. He could not swim, and
    was afraid.
    http://grammar.ccc.commnet.edu/grammar/quiz_list.htm

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