Three children squeeze into a plastic tub filled with water and play.
The tub is small.
The children scoop sand.
I think nobody would beat us if we had a quarterback.
He's a movie critic on channel twenty-seven in Houston.
The woman is alone sitting on a bench.
Fanged and festooned with skulls, as bloodthirsty Bhairav he destroys at will.
Nobody is riding.
Nobody is walking.