1.
She could bring the probe in very quietly among the pointed glass turrets of the castle this courtyard was on and swoop down to perch on a windowsill
2.
“This time I’m not,” Yellelle and began worming her way backwards thru the window til she was hanging from the windowsill
3.
The barn was partly under this apartment, so her windowsill was almost eight feet off the ground
4.
’ Chrissie put in, watching as Ozzie stowed the keys on the windowsill by the sink
5.
He came over to help himself to tea from the pot and glanced at the windowsill
6.
walked over to the windowsill
7.
There was a guy on the stool, one behind the counter, a girl sitting on the counter and Desa leaning on the windowsill near the guy on the stool
8.
” She noticed Alan just then, leaning on the windowsill next to Desa
9.
” Narrulla was up now and it’s mottled light played across her body as she sat in the windowsill
10.
Desa and Alan squeezed in at the table by sitting on the windowsill behind it
11.
Marcue and Danip got the next windowsill which was also behind the bench on this side, on the Dalzor end
12.
The back bench of the table was almost against the windowsill, Desa’s foot was on the bench and Nobron was caressing her calf
13.
alive, but as benign as a cat watching the outside world from a windowsill
14.
I was leaning on the windowsill looking out through the bars at the garden bathed in the morning sunlight the smell of summer flowers was really quite pleasant
15.
Incense sticks were burning, leaving powdery spiral trails on the chipped white paint on Sheuli’s windowsill
16.
The second cat jumped up onto the windowsill, watching Chuckles, its black pupils wide, hissing as the rage mounted in its own brain
17.
The cat on the windowsill made ready to pounce, growling low in its throat as Chuckles lay across the baby’s face, cutting short it’s cries
18.
Hollowcrest tried to take a step back but bumped into the windowsill
19.
spare, and that she has put one of Granny's shoes upon the windowsill
20.
windowsill and placed the shoe upon it, and was back again in the house
21.
Almost like a guilty friend, and both of you caught with your chins hanging out by some chick’s windowsill
22.
It bounces onto the windowsill and rolls into the glass
23.
Some of the flakes gather on the windowsill outside, piling at the corners
24.
From the windowsill behind Sierra, two male dolls eyed Manda blankly as she walked across the carpet
25.
twisting the leaves of the herb in the windowsill plant pot
26.
As he looked away from the view, his eyes rested on something on the windowsill
27.
Placing his glass by the windowsill, he cuddles me as he sits by my side
28.
Sight: I can see my computer monitor, a glass of water, a cup of pencils, the shadow from the blinds on the windowsill
29.
windowsill the cottage cheese and sour cream could stay fresh for the
30.
Yellow flowers in the windowsill
31.
The strains of the song washed over her as she leaned against the windowsill
32.
Seff reached onto the crudely cut windowsill and grabbed a brown crawling insect that may have been a cockroach
33.
Standing at the kitchen sink, she began to fill the pot with water, and noticed her wilting plant in the windowsill
34.
I throw my clothes on the windowsill that’s so wide you can easily sit on it with a bunch of people
35.
The guy is pulled back and falls with his head on the windowsill where he collapses
36.
Jabar has pulled of his mask and leans nonchalantly against the windowsill with his arms crossed in front of him
37.
Opening the door she found the basket of flowers, the card on the windowsill was slightly damp from the rain that had been falling for most of the morning
38.
A few birds chattered on the windowsill and an owl began hooting off in the distant treetops
39.
He asked her, therefore, to leave the meals on the windowsill and padlock the door
40.
He leant against the windowsill and dropped his head, blowing tension through his
41.
windowsill, a space behind the cheap cotton curtain billowing gently over the open
42.
A pot of basil set on the windowsill or table helps to repel fleas
43.
“Yes, bloody goldfish,” said the Sergeant, nodding towards the kitchen windowsill
44.
“It was as hot as hell in that flat, and there was even a dead fish in the goldfish bowl on the windowsill
45.
from a window is only 5-10% of that on a windowsill
46.
“Roosting on the windowsill above your head
47.
I gathered a pile of snowballs on the windowsill to hurl down the hill when I saw one
48.
Mud dripped from the windowsill, and stained his white curtains
49.
But a chill went through me when I saw Trid sitting on his windowsill, feet on the slate, eyes staring at the copper trough of a gutter
50.
back off of his head, and poked it up over the windowsill
51.
He reached his hand out groping for the windowsill
52.
There was a mattress floating just inside, and I lowered my feet to the windowsill and waited for my eyes to adjust
53.
breeze at the windowsill
54.
windowsill, his eyes and mind feasting on the sizeable and still well-
55.
He finished his tea, set the cup on the windowsill and started to get dressed
56.
She chased after them, leaping from windowsill to windowsill to reach the roof
57.
Darek was now dangling below the windowsill; his only means of staying alive was Thedes’s outstretched arm
58.
She reflexively let her hand fling out and barely managed to cling onto the edge of the windowsill with her fingertips
59.
Her body was still pressed against me as we teetered on the edge of the windowsill, dangerously close to the floor below and the hands reaching up to grab us and tear us into tasty, bloody morsels
60.
In a single movement she mounted the windowsill and climbed through to the kitchen within
61.
He reached Petra’s windowsill seconds later
62.
His head connected with the windowsill
63.
” I can barely make out what I think are several stuffed animals sitting just inside on the windowsill
64.
I sat on the windowsill leaning against the window and wished that I had a way out of this tiny room that was imprisoning me
65.
With myself sat on a windowsill, blue of course, Anna on
66.
There were dozens of portraits of Panos and Ceres, sitting, standing, leaning on a windowsill, looking back at the beholder, lying asleep on the bed
67.
quickly lit the stubby candle on her windowsill
68.
windowsill, enjoying the novelty of the fresh warm breezes
69.
But her corsage fell off the windowsill
70.
An eagle stood in his windowsill and screeched at the intrusion
71.
smacked her head against a windowsill as the boat was thrown onto its
72.
room with his hands against the windowsill
73.
He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds around him--leaves rustling in curb-side trees, rain pattering on the windowsill
74.
in the sunny windowsill
75.
Alex lights the candelabra resting on his windowsill
76.
Her heart was still pounding from the fact that she was actually here, in this small yellow-walled room, with a row of cactus plants on the windowsill and colorful government-issued posters with hotline numbers on the walls, cheap office furniture on beautiful old floorboards
77.
gunfire for the men to cross the lines and the warden marching with his keys to lock the gates and the bagpipes and only captain Groves and father talking about Rorkes drift and Plevna and sir Garnet Wolseley and Gordon at Khartoum lighting their pipes for them everytime they went out drunken old devil with his grog on the windowsill catch him leaving any of it picking his nose trying to think of some other dirty story to tell up in a corner but he never forgot himself when I was there sending me out of the room on some blind excuse paying his compliments the Bushmills whisky talking of course but hed do the same to the next woman that came along I suppose he died of galloping drink ages ago the days like years not a letter from a living soul except the odd few I posted to myself with bits of paper in them so bored sometimes I could fight with my nails listening to that old Arab with the one eye and his heass of an instrument singing his heah heah aheah all my compriments on your hotchapotch of your heass as bad as now with the hands hanging off me looking out of the window if there was a nice fellow even in the opposite house that medical in Holles street the nurse was after when I put on my gloves and hat at the window to show I was going out not a notion what I meant arent they thick never understand what you say even youd want to print it up on a big poster for them not even if you shake hands twice with the left he didnt recognise me either when I half frowned at him outside Westland row chapel where does their great intelligence come in Id like to know grey matter they have it all in their tail if you ask me those country gougers up in the City Arms intelligence they had a damn sight less than the bulls and cows they were selling the meat and the coalmans bell that noisy bugger trying to swindle me with the wrong bill he took out of his hat what a pair of paws and pots and pans and kettles to mend any broken bottles for a poor man today and no visitors or post ever except his cheques or some advertisement like that wonderworker they sent him addressed dear Madam only his letter and the card from Milly this morning see she wrote a letter to him who did I get the last letter from O Mrs Dwenn now what possessed her to write from Canada after so many years to know the recipe I had for pisto madrileno Floey Dillon since she wrote to say she was married to a very rich architect if Im to believe all I hear with a villa and eight rooms her father was an awfully nice man he was near seventy always goodhumoured well now Miss Tweedy or Miss Gillespie theres the piannyer that was a solid silver coffee service he had too on the mahogany sideboard then dying so far away I hate people that have always their poor story to tell everybody has their own troubles that poor Nancy Blake died a month ago of acute neumonia well I didnt know her so well as all that she was Floeys friend more than mine poor Nancy its a bother having to answer he always tells me the wrong things and no stops to say like making a speech your sad bereavement symphathy I always make that mistake and newphew with 2 double yous in I hope hell write me a longer letter the next time if its a thing he really likes me O thanks be to the great God I got somebody to give me what I badly wanted to put some heart up into me youve no chances at all in this place like you used long ago I wish somebody would write me a loveletter his wasnt much and I told him he could write what he liked yours ever Hugh Boylan in old Madrid stuff silly women believe love is sighing I am dying still if he wrote it I suppose thered be some truth in it true or no it fills up your whole day and life always something to think about every moment and see it all
78.
her money imagine his poor wife or mother or whoever she is such a face youd run miles away from I couldnt rest easy till I bolted all the doors and windows to make sure but its worse again being locked up like in a prison or a madhouse they ought to be all shot or the cat of nine tails a big brute like that that would attack a poor old woman to murder her in her bed Id cut them off him so I would not that hed be much use still better than nothing the night I was sure I heard burglars in the kitchen and he went down in his shirt with a candle and a poker as if he was looking for a mouse as white as a sheet frightened out of his wits making as much noise as he possibly could for the burglars benefit there isnt much to steal indeed the Lord knows still its the feeling especially now with Milly away such an idea for him to send the girl down there to learn to take photographs on account of his grandfather instead of sending her to Skerrys academy where shed have to learn not like me getting all IS at school only hed do a thing like that all the same on account of me and Boylan thats why he did it Im certain the way he plots and plans everything out I couldnt turn round with her in the place lately unless I bolted the door first gave me the fidgets coming in without knocking first when I put the chair against the door just as I was washing myself there below with the glove get on your nerves then doing the loglady all day put her in a glasscase with two at a time to look at her if he knew she broke off the hand off that little gimcrack statue with her roughness and carelessness before she left that I got that little Italian boy to mend so that you cant see the join for 2 shillings wouldnt even teem the potatoes for you of course shes right not to ruin her hands I noticed he was always talking to her lately at the table explaining things in the paper and she pretending to understand sly of course that comes from his side of the house he cant say I pretend things can he Im too honest as a matter of fact and helping her into her coat but if there was anything wrong with her its me shed tell not him I suppose he thinks Im finished out and laid on the shelf well Im not no nor anything like it well see well see now shes well on for flirting too with Tom Devans two sons imitating me whistling with those romps of Murray girls calling for her can Milly come out please shes in great demand to pick what they can out of her round in Nelson street riding Harry Devans bicycle at night its as well he sent her where she is she was just getting out of bounds wanting to go on the skatingrink and smoking their cigarettes through their nose I smelt it off her dress when I was biting off the thread of the button I sewed on to the bottom of her jacket she couldnt hide much from me I tell you only I oughtnt to have stitched it and it on her it brings a parting and the last plumpudding too split in 2 halves see it comes out no matter what they say her tongue is a bit too long for my taste your blouse is open too low she says to me the pan calling the kettle blackbottom and I had to tell her not to cock her legs up like that on show on the windowsill before all the people passing they all look at her like me when I was her age of course any old rag looks well on you then a great touchmenot too in her own way at the Only Way in the Theatre royal take your foot away out of that I hate people touching me afraid of her life Id crush her skirt with the pleats a lot of that touching must go on in theatres in the crush in the dark theyre always trying to wiggle up to you that fellow in the pit at the Gaiety for Beerbohm Tree in Trilby the last time Ill ever go there to be squashed like that for any Trilby or her barebum every two minutes tipping me there and looking away hes a bit daft I
79.
On the windowsill, jagged letters carved into the wood
80.
I was pretty sure they’d been staying there—hard to imagine the initials AC and DP scratched on the windowsill were a coincidence—but it’s nice to know for sure
81.
Probably Marie-Laure should be more curious—about her great-uncle who sees things that are not there, about the fate of everyone and everything she has ever known—but her stomach is full, her blood has become a warm golden flow through her arteries, and out the open window, beyond the walls, the ocean crashes, only a bit of stacked stone left between her and it, the rim of Brittany, the farthest windowsill of France—and maybe the Germans are advancing as inexorably as lava, but Marie-Laure is slipping into something like a dream, or perhaps it’s the memory of one: she’s six or seven years old, newly blind, and her father is sitting in the chair beside her bed, whittling away at some tiny piece of wood, smoking a cigarette, and evening is settling over the hundred thousand rooftops and chimneys of Paris, and all the walls around her are dissolving, the ceilings too, the whole city is disintegrating into smoke, and at last sleep falls over her like a shadow
82.
“Remember our apartment, Papa? With my books and our model and all those pinecones on the windowsill?”
83.
And somewhere beyond the borders of the model, beyond the borders of France, in a place her fingers cannot reach, her father sits in a cell, a dozen of his whittled models on a windowsill, a guard coming toward him with what she wants very badly to believe is a feast—quail and duck and stewed rabbit
84.
He even had time to vacuum the living room, water the flowers on the windowsill and tidy up the bookshelf and magazine rack before the doorbell rang
85.
I sang little songs to the birds on my windowsill
86.
I scarcely could say what I talked about, but in the end I sang to them, as I had sung to the birds on my windowsill
87.
Dad was the one who spotted on the windowsill the wine-bottle I’d half-emptied in the night (and which—let’s be honest—I probably left there to be found)
88.
It was unkempt, a row of crushed beer bottles and soda cans lining the windowsill
89.
“Hmm,” I said, letting my gaze drift to the windowsill, where sweet potatoes grew in water glasses, sending out tendrils and fresh green leaves along the ledge
90.
A lonely man sitting with his bare feet propped up on a windowsill, waving a funeral fan at his face
91.
He couldn’t get himself out of his old habits of saving time, though, and while he waited for the kettle to boil on the stove, he cleaned the table and put some fresh water in Katsu’s tank on the windowsill
92.
He checked the windowsill and under the bed, and when he found nothing, he shook his head at himself and went back to the ties
